When you read this I'll be gone
by trux
Summary: A young Harry learns of his Godfather in Azkaban...wizard law states this youngster must decide if Black lives or dies...with no knowledge of the magical world watch as young Harry worms his way into hearts and changes the fate of all who meet him. Set years before Hogwarts. (Old story. From way back. Found some forgotten copy of it. Re posting for old time's sake)
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all the other characters were born and raised in the beautiful mind of J.K. Rowling.

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 **Chapter 1**

 **Rain in Surrey**

Mathew hated the rain.

He sometimes wondered why he had left sunny California for this cold lump of earth in the frosty northern sea. He suspected it had something to do with the large amount of money the British ministry was paying him to work for them. The auror behind him pushed him out of the knight bus and into the fierce rain storm. He clutched at his brief case as he walked a step or two forwards to where the minister was standing under his large black umbrella.

Fudged seemed a bit anxious. He was regarding the surroundings with worried eyes as if a hired assassin was hiding in the hedgerow behind him. Mathew doubted that such a person would set foot anywhere near Fudge at the moment. After the attempt on his life two weeks ago the man made sure seven of the ministry's best aurors were with him all the time.

He didn't understand wizards. They pretended to be so much better than normal people and would constantly remind him of it. Yet they were far more barbaric and cruel than his lot was. At least the non-magic world didn't have a place as nasty and vile as Azkaban fortress, where the smell of the prisoners rotting flesh rose from the floor like mustard gas, eating away at your mind. The prisoners all went mad in the end; lying lifelessly on the cold wet floor while the rats gnawed away at their bodies. Their eyes would be caught in the depressing loop of their worst memories played over and over in their minds.

It was cold there. Always cold. He had read that the prison was guarded by dementors. He had never seen them. He never wanted to. It was one of the advantages of being normal. Magic might have been the fantasy of his world, but seeing it and what it could do with his own eyes left him to believe that it was more of a curse.

He was a lawyer. He saw to most of the ministers legal matters. A couple of years at Harvard law and a few more working his ass of in a firm and here he was drawing up documents to legalize the killing of the wizards and witches the ministry was most ashamed of. Wizarding law was rather complicated and finding a loophole in it that would allow legal execution was challenging.

The laws were all built on top of each other, dating back to 112BC. Every leader had added their own rules and laws, the mess eventually ended up being immensely complex. So much so that Mathew didn't believe anybody bothered following them anymore. Though the ministry of magic was constantly under public eye and if someone spotted them doing something wrong, there would hell to pay. This was probably why they never did much.

He had spent the last three months drawing up the legalized execution of Sirius Black; a known mass murderer who had spent seven years in Azkaban and still refused to die. He had gone through all 285 volumes of Law trying to find a way to make it all possible. He eventually stumbled onto an interesting paragraph in _volume 153 of wizarding law_ that was more than 700 years old, in which the minister of magic at the time 'James Hodge Pruett' stated quite clearly that in specific situations family were given immediate power in deciding over that persons life.

That is was brought them here today, to Little Winging, to the boy-who-lived. He wasn't exactly family. However Sirius Black was Harry Potters legal guardian according to his dead parents will. It wasn't really right, but it was good enough and after a lot of paper work he had finally pulled it off. He hadn't slept in days but it was worth 50 000 pounds.

An umbrella went up above his head and Mathew realized he had been standing in the pouring rain for a while. He hoped his brief case wouldn't sustain too much damage. It was a rather nice brief case and he didn't much fancy the idea of its documents getting ruined by the water. They were rather important.

The umbrella was bright yellow with purple polka dots. It reminded him a lot of Albus Dumbledore. Moody must have borrowed it.

"Are you alright Hazel?" Mad-eye asked him, "You seem a bit lost."

The night bus took off behind them, and the minister and his body guards had already started walking to the boy's school. He thought for a moment and shook his head glancing at the scarred man next to him, "I am fine, its just…nerves."

The old man smiled, "We best be off, Mathew, Cornelius seems to be waiting for us rather impatiently at the gates."

Mad-eye motioned for them to start walking. Mathew had been around the old wizard enough to know that he wasn't very pleased at the moment and during the journey from London he wouldn't stop annoying the minister with well placed questions. Mathew knew that the old man wasn't very pleased about the abrupt decision to kill Sirius Black.

Once again he couldn't understand the way a wizards mind works. He thought that it was rather merciful to kill someone who had been in that place for that long. Nobody deserved that hell. What made it worse was the fact that Black seemed sane. Mathew supposed that was why the minister wanted him dead. He had been pushing for the deaths of most of heavily guarded prisoners in Azkaban the past year. It was as if he were trying to erase proof of the last war. And the way that Fudge had been pressuring him to get rid of Black you would think that Fudge thought Black had arranged the entire assassination attempt from his cell. Sometimes you had to question the man's sanity…

They walked through the playground up to the office door. The local elementary school stood silently in front of him. Cold grey bricks dripping with waters. He followed Moody trying to stay underneath the umbrella. The secretary opened the door for them and they stepped into the heated building.

"Can I help you?" the young girl asked kindly addressing the minister.

It was weird being inside a school building after the end of the day. It didn't seem right without the other children. "Ah, yes miss, I am looking for a boy called Harry Potter. I am afraid I have some legal issues to sort out wit him."

The woman frowned, "Is he in detention? Incase you hadn't noticed sir all the kids 'ave gone home." she asked him wandering back to the desk. "He must be in detention then," Her hand reached down and picked up a file from the table. She began paging through it her eyes scanning the words of the pages. Without waiting for an answer she said, "He is in Mr. Mason's class. It's down the corridor to the left, number 31. Just tell his teacher what you told me yeah?" she finished. Her eyes finally took in Moody and his wooden leg. She seemed about to ask something but shook her head instead.

The young woman dismissed them and sank back into her chair in front of her computer. She pulled the headphones hanging around her neck back onto her ears and pressed the play button of her walkman. She didn't seem concerned at all. Mathew wondered what Harry Potter had done that could have earned him detention. His aunt didn't specify in the letter of consent, she only stated that he was being held after school for two hours every week day for a month.

The door opened and the sound of chalk scrapping a black board sent shivers running through him. He waited his turn to walk through the doorway. His hand groped his suitcase tightly.

This wasn't exactly legal, this wasn't exactly fair either. It made Mathew very nervous.

"Hello?" the voice of the young teacher spoke putting down his book.

Mathew immediately looked towards the opposite black board were a small boy was writing the words, 'I shouldn't play with matches.' repeatedly. There he was. Harry Potter; the little boy who would give him a big fat bonus for Christmas. He could go back to the states and visit his mother, maybe even by her a new house.

Kingsley smiled at the frowning teacher, "Ah, Mr. Mason? I was wondering weather you would give us a couple of minutes with your student? We have some matters of the law to sort out with him."

The teacher stood up, eyeing Kingsley and his bowler hat wearily. He looked at the aurors and then over at the minister, "Are you lot from the police department?" he asked curiously, he picked up his book and moved from around his desk, "I didn't think they would seriously send someone down."

What was left of Mad-eye's eyebrow shot up and he was about to ask the man a question when one of the aurors spoke up, "No I assure you sir, we were quite serious. If you wouldn't mind stepping outside with me for a moment, I would like to talk to you."

The door closed again, and still the scratching of chalk on the board could be heard throughout the classroom. Mathew was aware that the minister was staring at him. Sighing he walked over to the nearest table and set his briefcase down on it. His hand reached in and he took out the documents and a ball point pen. He sat down uncomfortably in the small wooden chair and waited.

The boy still continued writing as if there was nobody in the room. Mathew shifted uncomfortably and looked up to see the minister joining him on his left. "Are you sure you have got all the required paper work here Hazel?" the minister asked in a worried voice.

"Yes sir, its all here, I checked it many times." He pointed towards the small pile that lay stapled in front of him, "I know how to do my job Cornelius," he threw the man an irritated look.

The writing stopped. Mathew saw that the boy had to be finished with his lines. He seemed to linger at the board reading them all threw trying to make sure they were all right. Mathew made a small cough trying to get the boys attention.

Reluctantly the little boy turned around, the piece of chalk still firmly wedged between his fingers. He walked towards the table with a really sorry frown on his face. His hair was black and ridiculously messy and his one arm was in a sling. He stopped in front of the table and sat down in a chair.

He didn't look up at them. He stared directly into the wooden surface. It was as if he was trying very hard not to cry. His teeth clamping a piece of lip between them. Eventually he looked up straight into Mathew's eyes. They were emerald. A gorgeous green color. It took him a while to get over the shock of staring into such bright big eyes. "Um…Mr. Potter? I am Mathew Hazel, I am a lawyer. Do you know what that is?" he asked the little boy kindly.

Harry nodded. He looked around at the aurors above him and his eyes fell on Mad-eye. Mathew saw his mouth fall open a little and his eyes grow wide. "You send people to jail." He answered, looking back at Mathew shyly, "are you here to send me to jail?"

Mathew frowned, slowly shaking his head, "No Mr. Potter, I am not here to send you to jail. Why would you think something like that?"

He looked down at the table surface again, "I was bad. I burned that boy…" he seemed to hesitate for a minute, "But it wasn't my fault! Honest, I didn't mean to do it! And and I didn't even have matches. But but, but nobody believes me!"

Mathew looked back at the board, and then nodded, understanding. "I am not here to talk to you about that, Harry." His hand slowly slid the document across the table surface turning it around so that it would face him. "All I am here to do is to get your signature. You're not in trouble."

The little boy stared at the document and then stared back up in total confusion. "Where was it that you were from again?" he asked slowly. "And, who are all these people if they are not from the police department?" he motioned at the aurors. "And, and. And why is it so important that I sign it?"

Fudge spoke for the first time, "Harry, we really do not have a lot of time to answer so many questions. All you have to do is sign on the dotted line and then we will all leave and you can continue with your detention. What do you say, son?"

Mathew slid the pen forwards as well, smiling softly at the puzzled boy, his hand pulled back the pages of the document until it came to the last one and Mathew folded it neatly backwards. "you just have to sign it Harry, at the bottom of the page, do you see it?"

The boy's eyes scanned the last page of the document, his hand clutching the pen tightly, "All, all I have to do is sign here?" he asked his finger lingering over the line.

"yes, just write your name there on the line. Just write it there and we will be gone. Can you do it?" Mathew asked him.

His heart relaxed as he saw his ballpoint traveling to the spot. He would be out of here soon. This would all be over…

The pen dropped with a clatter on the table. Mathew's head shot up. The little boy was pushing the folded pages back his eyes screwed up in concentration as they began to read over the first paragraph. "Mr. Potter what are you doing?" his hands slammed onto the table and he stood up, his heart racing.

This wasn't good.

The little boy looked back at him shyly, "I, I was. I think. I want to read it."

"Read it!? Why would you want to read it?!" Mathew asked him in a hysteric voice. "You don't have to read it. You just have to sign it."

Harry winched and looked away. "But – but, but if I don't read it, then – then how am I supposed to know what I am signing?"

"It's noting serious Harry." The minister said in an awfully sweet voice next to him, "You don't have to worry about that, all you have to do is sign it. It would take you an awful long time to read all of that now wouldn't it?"

The little boy hesitated again, looking at the document and back up at Fudge, "I – I, just. Can I ask you a question?" he looked back at Mathew.

He was about to say no when Moody interrupted with a growl, "What is it that you would like to know Potter." A chair scrapped the tiled floor as the auror pulled a chair out from the table behind him and sat down facing Harry.

Harry seemed frightened by the man's appearance. His eyes lingered on the scars on his face and his magic eye. The boy swallowed heavily, his hands shaking madly as he addressed the old Auror, "I – I am sorry sir, but I. I just want to know…who is Sirius Black?" he looked away from Moody's eye and back at the document that his sweaty, dirty hands was ruining.

Moody was grinning, and nodded his approval. Mathew wanted to stop him, but Mas eye had already sent a warning glance his way, "Sirius Black is a man who is currently in jail Potter. He was charged seven years ago of man slaughter and sentenced to life imprisonment."

Harry's eyes shot up to meet the Moody. Mathew could tell that his shock seemed to overcome his fear of the man's appearance, "He is a murderer?" the boy asked innocently. "Who did he kill?"

Mad-eye smiled horribly, "He killed thirteen people. I do not know any of their names though."

The boy flinched. Mathew suspected it was from the amused smile on Moody's face. It looked very frightening when that man smiled… "Why were – why don't you know their names?" he asked in a whisper. His fingers digging into the document.

Mathew felt his insides squirm. This wasn't going the way he had hoped at all.

"Well," Moody said thoughtfully looking into the eyes of the aurors around him. All of them seemed to find this entire conversation very interesting. Mathew noted that none of them seemed to be concerned with Fudge's existence at all. "there wasn't much left of them to be identified."

That was defiantly something that you didn't tell an eight year old. The boy pulled a way, his hand shacking more. "And – and, and what does he have to do with me? Why is it so important that I sign this piece of paper?"

"That is en-" Fudge began saying. He had clearly realized the danger of the situation.

"Well, Potter," Dwalish cut in, "That document legalizes the execution of Sirius Black."

It seemed to take a couple of seconds before Harry understood what the auror had said, "Execution?" he repeated, "So – so, so if I sign this, then Sirius Black is going to be killed?"

Dwalish nodded, "Any other questions Potter?"

Harry bit his lip looking up at the auror and then back to Moody who was studying him with great interest, "Um…just – just one. Why would – why is, the – the execution of this man depending on weather or not I sign this piece of paper? I don't know him. I – I never met him? He is a stranger…so why do I have to sign this? Shouldn't. Isn't the prime minister supposed to sign stuff like this?"

Moody looked over at Mathew, "That is an interesting question Potter. I am sure that Hazel will be able to answer it for you."

Mathew took a deep breath. This was a disaster. But with seven Aurors staring at him expectantly he bit down his anger and took a deep breath, "Mr. Potter, Sirius Black is your godfather. That gives you by law a legal right to sentence him to death."

"He's my – my what?" Harry was standing up, the document straining in his hands, "My – my godfather? Like, as if, like you mean my mum and dad knew him? And was their friend?!"

Moody nodded quickly, "Yes Potter that is usually the case when it comes to godfathers."

Harry blushed and looked back down at the document. He seemed to be doing a lot of thinking. "I – I don't think I want to sign this." He said after a while looking back at Mathew.

He took the papers away from the hand belonging to the arm in the sling and slowly crumpled it up into a ball of paper with the good hand. Mathew felt his heart stop, he was about to get up and stop the boy when Moody's wand pressed into his side.

"Now just you wait here boy!" Fudge said angrily standing up out of his chair, "You can't do that! You need to sign it! Black needs to die!"

Harry shyly shook his head, "I – I want to meet him before I do any such thing. If you can arrange a meeting with him. I might sign it. I – should go home now. Goodbye."

He seemed so uncertain of himself, and at the same time seemed so sure in what he wanted. The boy walked away to the door not looking back. His shoulders were pulled up as if he was waiting for someone to grab him and force him back to the table.

Mathew let out a long sigh as the boy picked up his bag and pushed his way out of the classroom door. This was very bad. This had not at all gone as he expected. He hadn't counted the fact that the Potter boy would be this careful. It didn't seem a possibility at the time. He was after all just eight.

Outside the rain continued falling angrily against the windows.

Mathew really Hated British weather.

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A.N.

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	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

 **Cryptic friendships**

People rarely said anything they meant

In Moody's experience the older a person became, the more they guarded their thoughts and feelings. The older you became, the more you had to reach inside their words and search for their meanings. It was what made him such a great auror. It was what made him so respected. Moody had always been good at reading people. While all the younger aurors relied on truth serum for interrogation, Moody already new the truth by the time the person was dragged into a holding cell. It was in the way they fidgeted, in their faces, hidden in the choice of their words, the structure of their sentences…

"– **you can't** seriously expect me to allow an eight year old into Azkaban! He is Harry effing Potter for Merlin's sake! Moody, I can't **permit** it." Rufus sighed looking tiredly over at his friend. "You have to consider the danger of letting that boy anywhere near Azkaban not to mention Blacks cell. All those old death eaters, Mad-eye, **I can't risk it**. **The last thing I need** is a hostage situation or even worse, explaining to the press why the _boy-who-lived_ is dead. How did you even get Fudge to agree to this? How could anyone think it's a goo-"

" **Dumbledore** had a few words with him this morning. As you well know, **Fudge** will do pretty much anything Dumbledore thinks is a good idea. **Rufus, I am not asking** for a miracle, just let the boy talk to Black. It is the least either of them deserv-"

"Black deserves nothing!" Rufus cut across furiously, "I am not like the old man Moody, and you **can't soften me up with that bullshit**. You were there mad-eye, did you forget what he did? Perhaps we should tell the boy the full story huh? **You have** **done some very dodgy things** before this Moody. **Don't tell me** there isn't a way to get the boy to sign the document. You simply didn't tr-"

Moody sighed. It was very late; everyone was probably at home by now sitting down with their families to have dinner. Moody could imagine the entire ministry building above and below him to be completely empty. He wondered how a quick word with the head auror had turned into a three hour debate. Moody was tired.

He leaned back in the chair fixing Rufus with a searching gaze. It seemed that with time the man became more difficult. Moody knew well that Rufus could easily pull the strings to give him what he wanted. Moody knew that Rufus could easily generate a dozen solutions to his problem. Moody knew that Rufus was trusted enough to do anything. Which is exactly why moody didn't want to come to him in the first place. In the end, he had no choice. Everyone seemed to think that he was insane and now that he didn't have a rank in the department anymore, people tended to ignore him.

Rufus was the only one that could make any of this possible..

And Rufus knew this, which was why he was being so stubborn. Moody smiled tiredly at his old friend, "Potter is eight now, but he won't be eight forever. Do you really want the boy-who-lived to **hold a grudge** **against you** and the entire ministry one day for not letting him see his godfather? From a **legal** point of view alone I'd think he would be able to sue your **department** into poverty. That warrant **isn't** exactly **legal** now is it? Besides wh-"

"When Potter is **old enough** to make sense of the **entire situation** than I am sure he would be thankful for my decision. **If I were in his shoes** I would want the bastard dead. You can't seriously be expecting Potter to regret it later on, can you?" Rufus snorted in cold amusement. Reaching for his whiskey glass, "Besides, what makes you think the boy would ever be **threat to the ministry**? He is just a kid, moody. What could he po-"

"Oh, he is much more than that. Lets not forget he did after all get rid of you-know-who. **There is defiantly some power** to the boy. For someone as old as hi-"

Rufus's grin widened, " **Come now Moody** , **power alone** doesn't frighten **people** like us. We both kno-"

Moody nodded, "that is correct Rufus, **power alone is quite useless. Ambition** , however, now there is something to **scare** you. I belie-"

" **Ambition**?" Rufus asked frowning. The amusement dancing in his eyes was slowly draining away, "What do you mean **ambition**?"

It was Moody's turn to be amused. "Yesterday when we were talking to the boy, **I got the impression** that Potter **isn't much** of a Gryffindor at all. He is much too **cautious**. No, I don't think he is the little hero you got him figured out to be at all."

" **Ambition**?" Rufus repeated, "What are you saying? I should be **careful of that boy**."

"Don't make your enemies blindly." Moody said nodding, "You should now better than underestimating people. **Give the boy what he wants Rufus**."

 _Just give me what I need old friend_ Mad-eyes heart pleaded. He knew that it wasn't that simple. This argument had nothing to do with Potter or Black. It had to do with power. It had to do with the fact that for once in Rufus's life; he had absolute power over Moody. He had power to deny him. Something that Scrimgoeur wasn't going to let go of.

"Rufus, tomorrow morning fudge is going to be pressing this on you as well. You may have **authority** to deny me, but the minister for magic won't be that easy. Tomorrow morning he is going to barge into your office demanding an arranged visit. Whether you **give it to me** now or give it to him tomorrow **either way** the boy will speak to his godfather." Moody said simply, he stood up painfully shifting his wait onto his wooden leg. There was no point in talking anymore.

He turned around and made his way to the door his leg was stiff and sore. He needed to get to Hogwarts and inform Albus about this meeting. The way things seemed to be turning out he wouldn't go home tonight at all. His hand was leaning against the doorknob when Rufus spoke again in a voice that displayed his defeat. "What are you getting out of this Mad-eye? What **satisfaction** could _you_ possibly get out of _this_?"

Moody's eye swiveled to the back of his head and he saw Rufus shift uneasily in his chair. Rufus took a while to organize his thoughts before he continued cautiously, "I knew that – I know that Black has always been – has always meant something to you…but so did Potter. Then Black turned out to be a **traitor** and a death eater. I know this, **I was there**. I know that you think of Black as he is now and not how he was then. I know a lot about you Mad-eye **old friend** , **but** I cannot **understand** why this is so important to you."

Moody turned the doorknob, "you are right **Rufus** , you **cannot** understand."

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He was glad about his retirement. He needed it. He needed to take time off and disentangle himself from the ministry. He needed to see what it was doing to him. It had probably been one of the kindest things Albus Dumbledore had ever done for him. Though it could probably only be understood between them. Moody knew that he still had a couple of good years left in him. His decision to retire came as a shock to everyone. Nobody seemed able to see him doing anything else with his time. It was the one thing he was really good at. Nobody seemed to be able to see that was exactly why he couldn't do it anymore.

He limped into the entrance Hall the huge front doors shutting out the rainstorm behind him. He shrugged of his travelers coat and threw the muddy mess on the tiled floor. He had no intentions of spending a lot of time in Hogwarts and the faster he got to the headmaster the better. If his assumptions about Fudge were right, and his assumptions were very rarely wrong, tomorrow he would need to go to Azkaban and get Black to agree to see Potter.

His assumptions about Black had been wrong before, but Moody was pretty confident that Black wouldn't agree to see Harry. That he would not want a Potter to see him so pathetic and helpless. It would take some doing to convince him. Moody was half tempted to just take the boy along and surprise the man. It would give Black less chance to think on it.

His leg was aching terribly, and moody cursed the cold wet weather. He was almost finished climbing the last of the staircases. His eye swirling around madly in his head looking out for Filch who couldn't be too enthusiastic about the mud that was currently smeared across the entrance Hall's floor. He ignored the three kids hiding in the broom closet he was limping past. He ignored the fact that he was making a lot of noise; that the sound of his wooden leg hitting the stone floor was loud and had no rhythm to it. He ignored the fact that he barked out the password to the headmasters office knowing that the three kids in the broom cupboard could hear him. He wasn't much of an auror anymore.

He didn't really want to be one at the moment.

"Ah, Alastor, I was wondering when you would show up." The headmaster greeted him kindly as Moody shut the door behind him and stumbled over to the nearest chair.

Moody grunted a greeting and flicked his wand at he wooden leg. The charm unfroze his joints which relieved the pain somewhat. "The meeting with Rufus went on longer than I expected." He grumbled afterwards.

Dumbledore nodded, "He said no."

Moody nodded sharply, "He said no. He also threatened getting Black murdered by some random auror stationed at Azkaban."

"Ah," comprehension dawned on Dumbledore's face, "This has nothing to do with Sirius or Harry. This has to do with Sirius and James. You're disappointed in Rufus. That is why you argued with him as long as you did."

Moody flinched, Albus could read people a lot better than he assumed, "You think that I see myself in their situation? You think that I see myself as Potter being betrayed by Black?"

Dumbledore nodded slowly, "The similarity isn't that striking but I would say, to you it is exactly the same. You cannot force people to change Alastor. I understand now that you clung onto this with the hopes that Rufus would have changed over the past six years. But, my old friend, things do not always work out as we hope they would." A sympathetic smile lingered on the old mans lips and a sad light twinkled in his blue eyes. "Would you still like to continue with this? Do you still think it fair to put young Harry through it all?"

"It's the right thing to do Albus." Moody sighed weakly.

Agreement settled between them in the form of silence and a warm smile spread across the headmasters face. "Well then, I suppose that Cornelius will have a visit arranged for Harry by the end of the week. I should like to accompany him to Azkaban myself. I also think it best if we do it before the end of the week."

"Why?" Moody growled, "Are you worried about something Albus?"

"Well," the old man continued in a perfectly calm voice, "It is my belief that Rufus will not be too pleased with the idea of you getting your way. He might order Sirius to be killed before Friday. I am not worried about that now. I am more worried about little Harry. It is not kind to let someone so young walk through Azkaban. I would rather have avoided it."

"It is what Potter is prepared to suffer. The boy is determined Albus." Moody speculated, "You should have come along to Surrey. You would have to meet him to see it."

"Yes, unfortunately I wasn't invited to go to Surrey. It appears the Minister wasn't very fond of the idea." Dumbledore indicated, "He is an eight year old Moody. I do not believe Harry is aware what he is prepared to suffer. I would also imagine that if we were to take Harry to his godfather, we would need to explain the concept of magic to him. We would need to answer many of his questions. Young boys tend to be inquisitive. I would rather prolong it all until Harry is eleven. It would be harder for him to continue living among his relatives if he knew of our world and his heritage."

Mad-eye shifted in the chair causing his leg to ache, "there are some things that you can't keep from the boy forever Dumbledore."

The headmaster sighed, slumping back into his chair. His phoenix crooned low besides him and the headmaster nodded slowly as if agreeing with the bird. "I know that I cannot keep Harry from it forever Alastor, but I would have liked to shield him from it for a couple more years."

Albus Dumbledore wasn't always one of those people.

* * *

A.N.

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	3. Chapter 3

**Little Harry**

A metal plate skidded on the stone floor somewhere down the corridor. The noise brought him out of his stupor and he lazily turned his head away from the barred window which he had been staring at for quite some time. They were feeding the prisoners today. He heard the loud noises of plates dropping to the floor become clearer as the guards moved up the hallway.

He slowly uncurled the thin ragged blanket from around his dirty body and sat up in the wooden cot. His one shoulder was slummed against the moss covered wall while the other clutched at his numb feet trying to bring some warmth to them. All around him he could hear the uneasy see hurtling itself at the rocky walls of the prison and every now and then he could feel sea spray fling through the rusted bars of his window and shatter as it collided with the slippery stone floor. The endless wind whistled an off key tune through the holes in-between the massive stone slabs that formed the walls and Sirius shivered in the cold air that circulated through the cells.

A hand appeared, a _clean_ hand, and it twisted a dull bowl so that it would fit through the bars, Sirius could see some of the slushy brown soup spill over the edge. The bowl was tilted horizontal again before being dropped with a clatter onto the slimy ground. The hand moved away disappearing into the darkness of the cell across from his.

Sirius uncurled his toes and slowly maneuvered his feet towards the ground beneath his cot. He pushed himself off from his wall and limped towards the bowl, his feet slipping on the moss and slime. He bent down and with shaking hands picked up the frosty bowl. _Nothing ever seemed to stay warm in this place_.

He curled himself back up in his blanket and settled himself back onto his bed before automatically raising the bowl to his lips and drinking the meal. After his first year he had learned to ignore the taste. As long as it kept him alive there wasn't much he would complain about. There wasn't anyone to complain to.

"Black." A formal voice said sharply.

Sirius looked up placing the bowl to one side immediately; he wiped his mouth with his hand and tried to keep it from shaking. "Minister." He greeted in the same cold formal voice. He looked at the dimly lit faces of the men around him recognizing a few. His eyes lingered on the icy blue ones of Albus Dumbledore, his former head master. Something was up.

"Black," Fudge said again with distaste, he looked at Scrimgoeur who nodded steadily, "you have – a visitor."

Sirius frowned, his eyes darting over to the image of a guard fumbling with his chain and retrieving a massive rustic key. He inserted it into the lock and turned it several times before a screeching click sounded. The barred door slid open. Sirius felt his brain go numb.

A visitor for him?

Warm hands clamped themselves around his thin shoulders and Sirius felt himself being lifted up. His arms were being twisted behind his back and a pair of iron cuffs were conjured around them. Sirius looked to his side to see Mad-eye's scarred face give him a stern look, daring him to try something. At the same time Moody's wand tip was pushed into his back between his shoulder blades and the tall balding man on his other side gave him a rough shove which caused him to move forewords. He stared at Fudge as he was walked out of his cell.

He had never had a visitor before. He remembered long ago hoping that Remus would maybe show up one day. The dementors however had taken that hope away from him years ago. Who ells would come to visit him?

His eyes jumped around taking in the amazing site of something that wasn't his cell. He looked back over his shoulder at the following people, hoping to catch Dumbledore's eyes again before they stepped out of the door and into the congruent hallway. It was warmer in that part of Azkaban, the maximum security wing where he spent the last seven years being the worst.

His body was beginning to warm up. The Dementors had obviously been told to stay away from the guest today. You could always tell when someone important was visiting, the amount of mutters and screams from the prisoners decreased dramatically without dementors there to force them. Sirius had wondered why things had been so quiet that morning.

After passing a few doors that led to different cells he was pulled down a flight of narrow steps, through a heavily bolted and locked door and into probably the nicest part of the prison. There were even proper glass windows that kept the weather out and provided a chilling view of the stormy ocean. It was quiet down here and Sirius almost moaned with pleasure as his numb feet began walking on a carpet. There were torches hanging on brackets against the walls giving off a warm glow to surroundings.

The auror who had been pushing Sirius through the fortress let go of his side and unlocked a giant wooden door in front of him. Moody pushed him through his wand still firmly placed between his shoulder blades. Sirius was led towards one of the two chairs that stood in front of an old wooden table. The old auror sat him down and hooked and locked the cuffs to a chain fastened to the ground beneath his chair.

"Black," he barked, "I think it is just fair to inform you that if you do not behave me and the other lad's have permission to kill you, understood? So you just sit tight and don't think about doing something stupid, your days are numbered as it is." With a rough shove that forced him into the back of his chair moody left through the open door.

Was it Remus? Had he finally decided to come and visit after seven years? Did he still believe Sirius to be guilty? Would he believe him if he told the truth about Peter? Would he forgive him? Who else could possibly want to see him? Who would request that from the ministry and who would bother filling out all the necessary paper work?

Outside he could hear a choir of harsh whispering and as the open door creaked wider to allow someone passage Sirius looked up to meet his visitor.

A boy. A small boy was walking timidly into the room. He was hugging his sides and looking nervously over his shoulder as the door closed and was bolted shut. Sirius leaned forwards trying to get a better view of the child. _Could it be…_

The boy had stopped walking and stood shivering midway between the door and the table, chewing on his bottom lip. Sirius tried to say something but his throat had gone dry and all he could do was to swallow the dust that lined it. His eyes were slowly watering as he took in the unruly black hair, the shape of the face, the emerald green eyes that were staring determinedly at the table top.

"Harry…" he finally croaked.

His muscles were tightening and straining against the chain pulling his shoulders closer together as he leaned into the table. There was no mistaking it. It was him. Sirius could even see the traces of his scar shining through his fringe. His mind began running with thoughts, with memories, with emotions. "Harry." He said again his voice lubricated by the need to strike up a conversation.

The little boy looked up and with uncertain eyes he smiled slightly, "Hello," he said before unfurling his arms and moving forwards to the table, "I – I hope, I – didn't want to bother you. I – I, they said." he stopped staring at Sirius's face.

"What did they say Harry," Sirius asked frowning. He refrained from staring at the walls around the room, he knew that they were watching and listening in on this conversation.

Harry swallowed nervously, "I asked them if – if I could visit you. But. But – but I didn't mean to bother you." His green eyes sparkled with sincerity. "I am sorry if – if I did. I just, I wanted to. I just wanted to – to see you."

Sirius could feel the corners of his mouth strain upwards in something that should have looked like a smile. It was certainly not something he had done in ages. "You could never bother me Harry." Sirius said trying to make his voice sound friendly. From what he could sense about the little boy, he seemed extremely scared, very nervous and unsure about the entire affair. Sirius also didn't like the way Harry spoke; the stammering gave him the impression that Harry wasn't a very confident boy. "Trust me," he said with a harsh snort, "After living seven years with your dad there isn't much that could bother me."

He had said it in hopes that it would reassure Harry a little bit, though he hadn't counted on the fact that it would bring up the image of a dead lifeless James lying on the living room carpet with glassy open eyes. Sirius felt his body shudder as he tried to push the thought out of his head.

Harry smiled slightly, "You knew my dad? They – they said you knew him really well." His little hand was skating nervously across the wooden table.

Sirius nodded closing his eyes and trying to get rid of the burning he felt build up in them, "yeah," he said hoarsely, "I knew James and your mum." Dreading the next question.

"What were they like?" he asked curiously.

Sirius sighed and looked upwards trying to remember, after so long under the oppression of Azkaban it was hard to recall, "James was a very good friend, he was, he was. He was great." Sirius looked back at Harry's hungry face, the little boy had stopped fiddling now and stared at him attentively, "James," Sirius felt his facial muscles pull his lips into a smile, "he was very kind, very clever and very brave in the end." Sirius answered shortly before swallowing again and trying to maintain his calm, "He was also a nervous wreck, when you were born." His muscles pulled harder, "I was there you know."

He didn't need to look at Harry to know that the boy was listening to every word, he took a deep breath feeling the memory come to him, he hadn't thought about it in such a long time. It was one of the happy ones. "When I arrived in the waiting room James had almost pulled out most of his hair pacing holes into the carpet and muttering to himself. Remus was sitting calmly in the corner with a troubled expression on his face and peter, well he wasn't there for some reason." Sirius added bitterly. "Anyway after you were born it took me and moony, lily and two very insistent healers to get him to put you down. He was quite taken with you."

Sirius looked at Harry, his green eyes were huge and Sirius could see questions forming behind them, "Did Remus bring you, or did your aunt bring you Harry?" Sirius asked him silently. He really wanted to speak to the man.

Harry bit his lip in confusion, "Aunt Petunia, she doesn't know that – that I am here. Who is Remus?" he asked softly.

Sirius sat back in his chair with surprise, "Remus Lupin, you know, uncle moony." There was no reaction to either name, "You don't know who I am talking about do you?"

Harry shook his head slowly, "is he my uncle too?"

"Well," Sirius said thinking about it, "Yeah, I suppose he is. You have never met him huh?"

The boy shook his head, "I – I am sorry."

Sirius shook his head, "no, you shouldn't be sorry Harry. I just thought that, you would know him." Sirius wondered silently why Harry didn't, "anyways who did arrange this then? Who brought you here?"

The boy looked back at the door, "I asked to come here and – and the old man with the blue eye brought me."

"Mad-eye?" Sirius frowned, "I don't mean to sound ungrateful or anything, but what are you doing here?"

Little Harry looked around him and spotted the chair he had been ignoring for a while. Sirius watched as the boy began to push the chair around the table and towards him. Sirius could almost hear Mad-eye cursing under his breath. The last thing Sirius thought any of them wanted was for Harry to get this close to him. He on the other hand felt his heart soften at the gesture, it was rather sweet.

The chair came to a halt at his side, and Harry struggled as he tried to climb over the chairs arms. Eventually he sat in the chair his legs folded beneath him and his elbow resting on the table. Sirius noted his other arm was in a sling and appeared to be healing from a nasty break. He leaned in, "I – I just, really wanted to meet you." He said earnestly. "they – they just appeared at my school saying that they wanted to kill you. And I had to sign this form but I didn't want to. I didn't even know who you are." Harry explained.

"they asked you to sign a form that would allow them to kill me?" Sirius repeated. "That doesn't sound very legal Harry, and it doesn't sound very fair either." As a Black, wizarding law had been forced into his head since he could read and write, from what Sirius knew, there was no such thing as death warrant in Wizarding Britain.

The boy nodded his eyes wide with agreement, "You killed people right?" Harry asked him suddenly.

Sirius looked him in the eyes, "no Harry, I didn't kill anyone." He could imagine Fudge snorting behind the wall.

"Then why are you in jail?" he demanded in a confused voice. "The man – the old one, Mad-eye? He said that – that you had killed a lot of people. That is why you were in here."

Sirius shook his head again, "I didn't kill any of those people Harry."

"So – so you have never killed anyone?" he asked confusion poisoning his green eyes.

Sirius sighed, "well, not never, I mean, I was an auror during the war. We were sometimes ordered to do things, to hurt people. Most of the people who brought you here Harry, shouldn't really be accusing anyone of murder."

He seemed to struggle with this concept, "So," he said shifting a bit, "So most of them – what is an auror?"

"It's a dark wizard catcher. Your dad and I were aurors Harry." Sirius stated slowly, "Didn't they tell you?"

Harry backed away into his chair pulling his knees from under him and sitting down with them pulled to his chest, "A dark wizard?"

"Yeah." Sirius said slowly. "It's like, you know Dumbledore is a good wizard right? Well there are bad ones too."

"I am s-sorry but. I just – I don't. Who – is Dumbledore?" Harry asked him slowly.

"He's the old man with the long white beard Harry." Sirius stated. He couldn't believe that Harry didn't know these things.

The boy bit his lip again, "Are – all, those people outside. Are they – are they all _wizards_?"

Sirius nodded. Didn't he know anything about magic at all? Didn't anyone tell him?

A smile lit Harry's face and he relaxed, "Like in King Arthur, are they. Are they all – are all of them like – like Merlin?" his eyes began to sparkle with a distant memory.

Sirius blinked, "yeah, something like that. You know about Merlin then?" Sirius asked quietly.

Harry shook his head vigorously, "I read all the story books in library about Merlin."

 _Muggle books_. Sirius thought quietly. Nobody had told Harry about Magic then. He frowned as Harry began shivering again. It might have been warm to him but Sirius reminded himself that he was use to much worse. Harry had to be freezing. "So, you like books then huh? Lily and Remus would be extremely happy about that. I believe they both loved story books."

Harry smiled brightly, "What about dad? Didn't – didn't he like books?"

Sirius shrugged, "He wasn't madly in love with them Harry. He was more of an – an athlete." Sirius smiled inwardly at the memory of James streaking past him on his hunt for the snitch.

"So he played football?" Harry asked excitedly, "cause I like football t- " there was a knock at the door that caused Harry's face to drop immediately, he stared back at Sirius sadly, "I – I have to – I have to go now. I don't want to leave."

Sirius's face strained again. That was a wonderful thing to hear. "If you want to Harry, you can come visit me any time you like. They can't stop you from doing it. It's all perfectly legal you know."

He watched his godson's face twist into a confused one. "But, they said – the funny short man said, that I can only see you once."

Sirius shook his head, "No Harry, if you want to, you can ask mad-eye for a visiting form, and then you fill it out and get an adult to sign it. You're allowed to come and visit me whenever you like. If, you want to." He added anxiously.

Harry smiled as he stood up in his chair and began climbing back down, "I would – like to." He hesitated before walking to the door. "Sirius," he said softly looking into his eyes. "I believe you." He whispered.

Sirius felt tears rise in his throat again, his heart reached out to the boy and he felt a great need to hug him. He tested the chains and was brought back to the reality of the situation. Instead he gave a swift nod and turned his head away as Harry walked back towards the door that swung open to allow him passage.

Those three words coming from his mouth awoke many dormant emotions and feelings. For the first time in seven years, Sirius Black felt alive.


	4. Chapter 4

**Regrets**

The sun looked like a bright, red winged phoenix that was dipping towards the horizon, moving through a vast ocean of dormant blues and various shades of purple. The clouds completed this picture of perfection, looking like dusty brown feathers that were rumpled and stuck to its body at odd angles, lit up with the golden light that was radiating from its body. The dying light of the sun reached the earth like beams of searching light from its brilliant eyes, falling onto the ground miles away from them.

The sunset was a brilliant end to a very frustrating day and Mad-Eye looked uncomfortably down at the sniffling figure that walked quietly besides him. The others had parted with them two blocks ago; Mad-Eye had thought it best to deal with what was coming alone. He knew that neither the minister nor Scrimgoeur would be able to handle the boy much longer. Nothing Potter seemed to say with regards to Sirius Black was what they had wanted to hear.

They had wanted him to sign the damn warrant. They had banked on that fact. Rufus had planned the day down to the minute, down to the instant that the boy was supposed to sign it in the warden's office at Azkaban fortress. After which, Moody supposed, they would take Black directly from the visiting room to the cemetery, where his grave would already have been dug.

None of them, however, expected Black and Potter to get along so well. No one had expected the visit to be such a big success – from Black's point of view, of course. After a nice little chat like the two of them just had, Moody didn't really expect the boy to sign the warrant. He thought, as he watched the boy wipe his eyes with the sleeve of his good arm, that Rufus had maybe been too hard on the boy. There had been a point, before Albus interfered, that Moody was sure the head auror was going to break the boy's broken arm at a different place.

Mad-Eye sighed as they neared the corner of Battery Crescent; his leg was hurting again. He knew that he would have to get it looked at some time in the near future. It was really starting to bother him again...

"Mad-Eye?" Harry's voice said uncertainly behind him, "Are - are you okay, sir?"

Moody stopped walking, his magical eye swilling to the back of his head. Potter stood three paces behind him with a worried expression on his young face.

"I am fine Potter," Moody answered quickly, "We best hurry up and get you home before it gets darker."

He limped forward two steps but the little boy didn't follow. The worry on his face only deepened, "But, but Mad-Eye, sir. But you - you are hurting."

Mad-eye stood still again leaning as much weight as he dared on his good leg. He threw his head over his shoulder and stared at the boy.

"I am as fine as I will ever be Potter. Now get a move on, we are still a long way from home and there isn't much light left of this day."

Damn Dumbledore... that had been the man's only condition, that Harry be transported from his home to Azkaban using muggle means. Apparently he wasn't ready just yet to reveal the wizarding world to Harry. Mad-Eye had thought this was a wise decision at the time, as it would have no doubt been a lot to take in together with the knowledge of his godfather's existence. He hadn't thought about all the walking and driving that it would entail. He sure as hell didn't think he would be the one accompanying the boy the entire way either.

"Maybe we should - maybe we could, should rest a little. Just - just until you feel a bit better. Or I could - it wouldn't be - I could walk home alone - it would be less, less trouble for you." Potter suggested softly.

 _Here it comes._ Mad-eye thought with defeat. He hobbled over to the edge of the sidewalk, towards the gap left by two cars that were parked end to end, part of a neat line of cars that stretched down the long street. Moody carefully lowered himself down to sit on the pavement with his aching wooden leg stretched out into the road. It was not perhaps the most sensible thing to do. It would be a very weak position in which to be discovered by an enemy. However, the instant relief that washed his mind clear of the shouts of pain previously coming from his leg was enough to keep his paranoia at bay...for now.

A small frame sat down next to him gingerly. Potter's nervous, worried hand playing with the sling around his shoulder as his awkward feet shuffled together in the black tar road in front of them. Moody looked down at the boy thoughtfully.

"You had quite the day, huh lad?" he asked, "Picked a couple of fights here and there."

Harry nodded shyly. He seemed to want to say something. Instead he bit his lip and thought better of it.

Moody smiled bitterly. It would be something to be ashamed off; the way that Potter spoke. He was so unsure when he spoke; his thoughts seemed to stumble out of his mouth. Hurrying to get out quickly. Trying to be heard. Mad-Eye could tell that Harry didn't speak a lot. He wondered if anybody ever gave him the chance to speak. He couldn't have had much practice doing it.

He tried to pump as much kindness into his voice as was still left in him, which, admittedly, wasn't that much.

"Would you like to ask me questions about today's visit Harry? I might as well answer those that are floating around in your head seeing as we are currently doing nothing important."

He looked at the boy as he nodded his head slightly and then watched with both eyes as the head turned revealing two green orbs glowing with curiosity. His lip flanked by his teeth, rolling back and forth between them as he hesitated once more, "Is your name - does everyone really call you - is it - is it really Mad-Eye?"

Mad-Eye nodded slowly in amusement. That wasn't quite what he had expected to be asked. He had to admit that the manner in which he was asked was quite endearing. Harry stared at him with his earnest eyes, gleaming with the sheen from the sunset above and frowned slightly, "Is it because of your - your mad, eye?" he asked in a low whisper staring at the electric blue ball.

Once again Moody nodded trying his best to conceal a grin. He didn't want to discourage the boy before it got to the question he had been preparing himself for. Harry's mouth slowly became slack as he watched the eye jerk around in his socket.

"How did you get that ugly thing?" It slipped out quickly before he could close the clasp on his mouth.

He made to take it back; seemingly quite shocked that he had spoken so quickly. Mad-Eye waved his hand at the apologies longing to spill out between his lips.

"Nah, it wasn't a rude question. You don't need to apologize or anything. If you got to know, I lost my real eye in a fight. Took a nasty blow that cut…" He traced the scar with his finger. "… my entire face open. So I got the eye at the – eh – hospital, after they sowed me up. And no, in case you were going to ask, it doesn't hurt that much," he finished.

Potter was an open book to read. You could plainly see what he was thinking by looking into his eyes or watching his face. He hadn't yet learned to hide those feelings, to cover up those emotions. He was still honest. Something which Mad-Eye found refreshing. For once he didn't need to worry about sorting through the bullshit people usually presented to him to find the hidden truth.

"And what about - how did you get hurt - your leg is all stiff, its all...what is wrong with it?" he asked again in a soft voice. Looking now over to the leg Moody had stretched out into the road.

"Oh, that. I lost my leg in the war you know. So this is a replacement. Wood. It doesn't work as nicely as my original used to, obviously. But it is as good as I can expect." He rolled his eyes at the look of horror on the boy's face and before Potter could ask the coupling question, "And yes, it does still hurt some times. Which is why we stopped. "

He shook his head, this was going nowhere. For all he knew Potter would go on asking the things not relevant to the current situation. Most certainly there would be questions that he wouldn't be able to answer without breaking Albus's condition. He decided to cut to the chase.

"So aren't you going to ask me about that visiting form your godfather told you about?"

Harry's eyes snapped from his leg to his face immediately.

"How do you - you weren't in the room. How can you - know?" he said in confusion, "You weren't there when he - when he said that to me."

Mad-Eye rolled his eyes, which caused Harry to flinch slightly.

"Lad, we were listening in on every word the both of you said."

"But - I," he paused to think and jumped to another thought immediately. "Was it true? Did he say - what he said, was it true what he said?" he asked again. "Can I really go visit him?"

Moody nodded heavily. "It is certainly legal." He looked into Harry's hopeful eyes. "You like Black then?"

"I do." Harry answered happily. "He told me - he shared - he said all these things, things about my dad. Things - things about my mum. I think he is nice. Though," an odd look came into his eyes, "He doesn't smell very good."

Mad-Eye chuckled softly, "No, I don't suppose he does...listen Harry," he said, his voice turning serious, "I will fill out the form and sign it as the adult and bring it to you some time, if that is what you really want. But you must understand that Sirius could just have acted all nice today to get on your good side. And I doubt anything he said about his innocence is true. There is too much evidence against him, see. So, just know, that it is dangerous to go see him. He is a dangerous man."

"He - he told me. He said to me that you killed people also. So - so aren't you also a - a dangerous man as well?" he asked looking curiously up at Moody.

Moody pushed himself off of the ground and managed to prop his injured leg up underneath him, he swayed a little as he got used to the pain,

"We better hurry and get you home."

He turned without looking at the boys hurt face.

Those were things he did not need reminding of.

* * *

The dark sky lit up, a streak of concentrated light sprinted the distance towards the horizon in a split second, chiseling the jagged scenery into the mind. The light then dropped into the foaming ocean and an infuriated bellow rose into the air, lingering a while in the grim, overcast air, as the black, feral beast continued ragging below.

The boat was actually floating above the water.

The sea was much too wild for the little dinghy to cross without the use of hovering charms. Yet, to spite all the magic layered into the wood to ensure a smooth trip, the boat was tilting this way and that, it was still violently shaken by the wind, pushed to and fro by the strong currents and somehow the icy water always managed to climb onboard. Moody always believed that the only useful charm on the damn thing was the one that kept it from sinking.

He hated coming to Azkaban.

It reminded him too much of the way things were before his retirement; during the first war and the dark time before that. He could see himself holding some sorry bastard at wand point as the same dingy struggled to make its way to the rocky fortress that jutted out of the high waters in front of him. He could still hear the way they pleaded for anything other than the fate that waited them there. Their twisted faces, torn by fear, their eyes sweating with nervousness, their bodies shaking violently because of something other than the cold seawater. Handing them over to the dementors and watching their shrieking figures being dragged into the lifeless arctic fortress, wishing for death over this hell.

He later tried to convince himself that he had been one of the good ones. The ones who chose to spare their lives instead of killing them off as he met them. He believed that he was doing them a favour. He tricked himself into believing that he was merciful not to drag their lifeless bodies back to headquarters to be claimed by their families. But his lies couldn't silence the dreams. He couldn't lie to himself anymore after the war ended and peace provided him with enough time to see his actions for what they really were.

Cruel.

The boat banged against the wooden pier that bravely swung out into the open see to welcome visitors. The ferryman secured a thick rope to one of the wooden post and motioned for him to get out. It was a hard task to manage with a stiff leg that pained terribly in the stormy weather. The pier was solid, supported by many charms and spells to hold it upright in the violent water. Moody limped towards the distant stone stairs that cut its way up to the entrance

There was something about the appearance of the prison that never sat well with Mad-Eye. It was more than just a building carved into the cold rock. Whenever he reached the last steps and turned to see the towering doors waiting to meet him, he would think of a beast far more dangerous than the sea around him, opening its mouth to devour his soul. It seemed hungry. As if it wanted you to enter. As if it wanted you to stay.

A wave hit the base of the rock behind him and flew up the rugged wall until the milky drool stretched out into the air above his head, breaking down into thousands of specks that were gathered by the wind and flung out to see again. Moody wiped the frozen sludge off his face with disgust and began walking towards the entrance longing for some shelter from the insensitive wind. In front of him a flame, wrapped loosely around a torch, stood waiting for him through the gap of the door, the face of the hand holding it up flickered unevenly in the struggling light.

Haden's weathered and scarred face greeted Moody grimly as he entered the great doors and effortlessly with a simple flick of his hand the giant oak fixtures swung together shutting out the storm. Moody eyed his old comrade and smiled wearily.

"I was hoping you would be waiting for me."

"You chose a bad day to visit, Mad-eye," he said with stern eyes, "I thought yesterday's trip would be enough for you. So many leaving her embrace unsettles the fortress. It's not good."

Moody shivered shaking some of the seawater off of his coat. "I am sorry about Black," he said automatically.

Haden snorted. "The dementors were not at all pleased. Most of the lad's on duty were looking forward to it too. The fortress herself is angry, having lusted after his soul for years. The sea also wanted his blood, now it rages against her bodice demanding his flesh. Too long has she dangled Black in front of it, too long has he managed to stay out of its grasp."

"It was the right thing to do," Moody said softly, "Black didn't have to die. It's punishment enough to be here."

Haden turned, dragging his shielded eyes away from Moody.

"You mean, it was the law? We old men do not change so easily after all. I believe I read about your retirement my old friend. Yet, here you are again fighting for that demon you call 'law', that cult you call the 'ministry'. Here you are, not a day different from the man who walked these halls a decade ago. Do you not think 7 years is enough for any man? Must he undergo more? What amount of suffering would ever satisfy your dark needs?" _._

Moody felt his stomach churn as he watched the other man walk silently towards his office, taking the light with him. He followed.

"It isn't murder if it's legal." The voice growled back to him as it left the main hallway and disappeared into a side door. "And it had nothing to do with Harry Potter," he spat angrily as he walked up the winding staircase, "This had to do with you and Rufus, Alastor."

Moody limped up after him, chasing after the warm light. "I couldn't stand by and watch a man get murdered to assure Fudge's insecurities. It was wrong Haden. Could you make an eight year old responsible for his godfather's death? The wizarding world has done away with execution for a reason, its not justified."

The walked through the door and into his office. A fire was glowing gloomily from the corner and Haden threw the torch into it causing it to wake up a little. Moody shifted uneasily towards a chair in front of the fire and sat down with a great sign. The Wardens office was probably the nicest place in the entire prison. It was certainly the only place with real warmth to it. It was a dingy little room; books, files and boxes scattered all over the place and huge metal filing cabinets lining the stonewalls. The floor was covered in a thick worn out carpet that sported dark red stains all looking suspiciously like they were made by blood. A dog lay curled up in the far corner, fast asleep and the wind and rain hammered against each of the two big windows that looked out onto the restless sea.

Moody never asked how Haden had ended up in this position. It was something he couldn't imagine as being a very desirable job. He supposed that there really didn't exist that much work to do seeing as the dementors pretty much kept all the prisoners at bay and the aurors stationed here on guard pretty much kept the dementors at bay. Mad-Eye could imagine Haden sitting here for days on end reading in front of the fire and staring out onto the ocean.

Just watching the years pass by and marking them only with the number of tombstones added to the yard below.

Haden's rough hand shoved a glass of whiskey into his and with a grunt he sank down into the opposite chair. "Tell me, my old friend, what news of the world beyond did you carry across the water towards this hell? And by whose leave do you come here in your leisure? And what purpose do you serve by sitting in my favourite chair and drinking up the last of my whiskey?"

Moody looked over to his friend, "I came here to give you this," he said leaning over the chair and reaching into his pocket with his free hand. He slid out the visiting forms and held it out to the Warden. "I think it is safe to say Harry Potter might be popping in from time to time. Just thought you should know."

Haden's clever cold eyes travelled over the words quickly and an ugly snarl crept onto his face.

"Very considerate of you," he sneered tossing the papers aside carelessly and looking back up to Moody, "The fortress will not like this Mad-Eye, it burns her heart to see life returning to those souls bound to her until their deaths. I doubt the ocean will be glad about it as well, it doesn't like visitors, and visitors on a regular bases will just upset it more."

Moody wanted to talk. He needed to talk; about so many things that had happened and about the consequences that both of them were currently struggling to live through. He could see that the isolated warden also needed to talk about the beasts of guilt that were gnawing away at his humanity.

"Well then, now that this is all done and approved, I should best be on my way," Moody said suddenly, ignoring the disappointment in his friend's eyes.

He threw his head back gulping down the last of the whisky and stood up. He would see himself out. He doubted Haden would bother walking him to the door.

There were too many things they didn't want reminding of.

* * *

It was a terrific room. He always felt so very comfortable in it, like he truly belonged here. He loved the cold red marble walls; he loved the big fireplace in the far corner that was framed by the ancient bookcase stacked with those giant volumes of wizarding law. He loved the old ragged carpet that stood beneath the desk.

The same desk that had been calling out to him for years now.

"Well? What does he say? Did you even bother talking to him?" Fudge shouted loudly, his face burning with frustration. Rufus couldn't understand why the fat short man had been elected as the minister in the first place. He promoted no sense of authority. There was nothing about his appearance or his voice that conveyed strength or demanded trust. Rufus leaned back in the fine leather chair as he watched the man spit out the next verse, "Do you even know that the prophet found out about Black and are requesting an interview. What am I supposed to tell them?"

Rufus shrugged lazily, "Surely minister, you have the authority to deny them such a request. You do not need to agree to everything the prophet asks of you." He sighed and looked at the desk, which had been standing in this office for the best part of two hundred years. It was a beautiful desk. Notched and stained by time yet forever preserved in the respect it once demanded. Its surface was always clean and smooth. A thin blanket of magic was wrapped around it and embedded within it.

He couldn't understand why Fudge let the media intimidate him so much. He knew that the prophet was out of ministry control; that they should have put an end to it years ago when it first began printing to please the readers instead of telling them the honest truth. It seemed that these days the market for truth had vanished. The prophet had become shit on paper. The public seemed to like being fed shit these days.

Fortunately the prophet had its uses. It was a great way to keep the truth between those who could stomach it.

"Well, I can't tell them nothing is going on when they know about Potter and Black. They would write an article about how I am trying to hide the truth! I am asking you again, has the warden agreed?" Fudge asked angrily. "He should just get it over and done with! Kill the damn death eater!"

Rufus shrugged, "It isn't that simple anymore Fudge. If you would have listened to me earlier on, we might have been able to prevent this from happening. However, you felt that Dumbledore provided you with the better solution and chose to trust him instead. Let us hope that next time you chose to let others make your decisions for you, you chose the right people to trust." He let his eyes travel over the law books on his right. "The law is a tricky thing to get around; but with Dumbledore you don't stand a chance. He has cornered us. There is no way out except his now."

"What are you implying?" Fudge asked relaxing in his chair again and allowing his anger to be pushed aside by his confusion.

Rufus closed his eyes in frustration. He took a deep breath before opening them and focusing them on the idiot in front of him, "Dearest minister, who do you think informed the media of that little visit? Do you honestly think they found out on their own? The prophet is run by a bunch of gossiping idiots who wouldn't know a thing about getting through the security measures I took when arranging the entire affair. Someone tipped them off." He concluded simply, "and I am willing to bet you it was the esteemed headmaster of Hogwarts."

"Why would Albus do such a thing?" Fudge asked leaning forward again, "Doesn't he understand how much trouble this is going to cause me?"

Rufus snorted. After many years of coexisting alongside Dumbledore, he knew the old man didn't do anything unless he had a well thought out reason behind it. "I assure you he knew exactly what he was doing. I do believe that Dumbledore was aware of your great desire to eliminate Black. I also believe that he knew how we intended to make Black go away if the original plan failed. He would of course try and prevent it. I do not understand what is going on in that man's mind but I can promise you this. There is no way out of this mess without going through Dumbledore." He shifted uncomfortably in the chair, "We can't keep the boy from his godfather, because Dumbledore wouldn't allow it. He would probably bring it up in the next meeting and I promise you the wizengamot will make a huge issue of it. We cannot kill Black because Dumbledore would take legal action and get us both charged with murder. We cannot move him to a different prison because if we wanted to do that we would have to get it done through the wizengamot which means we will have to go up against Dumbledore again. He isn't going to budge on this."

"But, we can't let Black live. Not after that attempt on my life. And especially not after this," he motioned to the letter from the editor, "is made public in a couple of days. Has the wizarding community completely forgotten what the death eaters did to Britain a decade ago? I do not need people to start sympathizing with a mass murderer. That little boy is causing so much trouble. Did you see the way they interacted the other day? Did you see the way everyone's attitude seemed to soften towards Black? Did you see the way Moody-"

"I am not blind minister," Rufus hissed dangerously silencing the other man quickly. He didn't need to revisit that memory. All it did was make him angry. It made him angry to see how soft Moody was going. Black didn't deserve to live. Not after what he had done. Couldn't Moody see it? Couldn't he understand it? Rufus needed to see Black die. He needed to see all of them die and after trying for years to get the minister to agree with him, Moody just had to fly in and mess it all up.

He didn't want to see his old friend letting go of his need for revenge. It was painful knowing that the hatred still ate him yet no longer hurt Moody.

He took a deep breath, calming himself down, "Black's assassination attempt on your life was terrible. He doesn't deserve to live minister. It is unfair what's happening now."

"It just doesn't make any sense. Why would Dumbledore want to protect a criminal? Wasn't he the one who ensured Black a life sentence in the first place?" Fudge commented quietly, his hands gliding along the surface of the table. His finger tips running over that cold, slippery wood.

Rufus felt a shiver run up his spine and looked away again towards the white marble fireplace and the fire that struggled to grow within it. "He is a very odd man Fudge. Dumbledore has always had a need to find the best in people. I think he read too much into Black's reaction with Potter."

"But – but obviously Black was faking it!" Fudge blurted out.

"There is no proof." Rufus replied silently, "I suppose that if you can prove that theory, I could find a way to fix our little problem." His head tilted to one side and then to the other, an idea forming quickly in his mind, "yes, I think that would work nicely."

* * *

"…I – I really, I didn't do it, I didn't – didn't mean to. I don't know how it caught fire. And I tried, I tried telling Aunt Petunia, but she – she, she just shouted at me and sent me to my cupboard without dinner." The little boy said solemnly as he looked across the table at his godfather.

 _Harry Potter_. Haden snorted into his empty whiskey glass before dropping it to the table he was leaning against. Potter was probably the only wizard Haden didn't want in his prison. He couldn't stand looking at the brat. How it was, that an unremarkable child like that could defeat Lord Voldermort, eluded him completely. Haden doubted the skinny bastard even knew what a wand was, he certainly knew next to nothing about the wizarding world. Haden had verbalised his thought on the entire affair many times. It was simply impossible to live through the death curse. He had seen many try and many fail. There was no life after Avada Kadavra.

It was impossible to block. It was nearly impossible to deflect. Indeed he only knew a hand full of aurors who dared to do it. It was impossible to absorb and break down the magic. It would be impossible for a one year old to dodge it and there would be even less of a probability that Voldermort's aim wouldn't be sufficient at such a close range. Nothing about what happened that night made sense. Even if Voldermort accidentally cursed himself instead of the boy, it couldn't explain that cut on Potter's forehead.

"Your aunt sound really mean." Black said with a soft smile on his emotionally starved face, "Why would you set your cousins desk on fire? Its just, silly."

"Dudley was very very scared. He was running up and down the corridor and the fire on his sleeve just got bigger and bigger and bigger. Mr. Mason had to pull him outside and push him into the rain. He was rolling around in the mud and Mrs. Hatting had to – had to call aunt Petunia to come calm him down. Uncle Vernon was very very mad, but I – I didn't do it."

This was the little brat who snatched all the glory from the previous war. It ended with him and everyone who fought and all those who died before hand and afterwards, were utterly ignored in the public's eye. All his friends, his brother, lay buried and forgotten in some common cemetery in the midlands, while Potter was front page news. He flinched as the photographer for the daily prophet took another photo through the observation wall, one of Black laughing heartily and Potter struggling to contain his own dopey grin.

If there was one thing he disliked more than the boy-who-lived, it was watching one of his prisoners actually _enjoying_ his time here. He dreaded opening the news paper and seeing the big advertisement in tomorrows copy of the daily prophet, showing the world how much fun Azkaban really was. How he wished he was allowed to place a dementor or two in that room. Damn Dumbledore.

He let his head swivel to look over at the brainless, ministry employed shrink that had been sent on Fudge's orders to analyse Black during Potter's visits. Fudge was probably looking for an excuse to send Black away from Azkaban and to an insane asylum, one were Potter would defiantly never be aloud to enter at the age he was and one were nobody cared about what happened after he was smothered to death with his pillow. They would say that it was a suicide. Nobody would be able to argue with them then. A suicide in one of those hell holes was very common and even more excepted than a suicide in the walls of Azkaban fortress.

Black's howls of laughter suddenly stopped as he saw the puzzled frown on the youngsters face, "What's wrong Harry?" he asked sitting up in his chair.

The boy bit his lip, a sign of weakness, a sign of hesitation, "Why – why is that so funny?" he asked in a small voice.

Black's eyes burst with the happy memory, "Well, this reminds me of a conversation your dad and I had when we were in Auror training, -"

Haden let his hand trail behind his back, and he gripped the whiskey bottle lazily and started pouring its content into his empty glass. He really couldn't stomach any more memories from Black about auror training. He didn't need reminding of the hell Black and Potter caused him during his time there. All those stupid pranks, joking around, throwing those loud parties and still they manages top grades. It was unnerving having to head their training that one year he was recovering from that battle at waterloo. It was even more unnerving baby sitting both of them for the first month after they joined the ministry ranks. He still didn't understand how they could have made it that far without being expelled at some stage. Damn Dumbledore.

The door opened behind him, and Haden heard the sound of Mad-eye clunking his way into the dark room. He lifted his glass that was filled to the top with the last of the whiskey and muttered over the rim to the man who came to a halt besides him, "This is a bad day for Azkaban. She does not like the publicity. Was it necessary for that imbecile to send those vultures here?"

"I found what I was looking for; Rufus and Fudge however are going to be very disappointed that Black hasn't tried to strangle the boy yet. Thanks for letting me look over his file by the way." Moody's worn voice growled next to him.

"If you can find the truth hidden in my office, who am I to try and keep it from you? No Mad-eye, there is no need to thank me. What you learn within these walls you can carry across the sea, but what you take from within these walls will never reach the distant shore in your possession." He said gulping down some more whiskey at the thought of Mad-eye messing around in his office, rearranging things and reading his personal files on all his prisoners. It was something he couldn't stand. When both of them were still in ministry employment, Moody would just stroll into his office taking things out of his filing cabinets without returning them. He hated when people disorganized his stuff. He kept things pilled up in random places on his floors for a good reason, though everyone always thought he was just a messy personality.

"God would you just stop talking like that!" Moody growled rolling his eyes. It got to him sometimes. So pretentious. Haden ignored the outburst. Mad eye bit his cheek and tried again, "It's about time that I should take Potter back home don't you think? It has been about 2 hours. Wouldn't want his aunt to get suspicious." Moody muttered thoughtfully. "She doesn't know about this arrangement and Dumbledore intends on keeping it that way. She has a legal right to keep him from coming. Right now she believes he is serving his detentions with his teacher, who was obliviated yesterday."

Damn Dumbledore. "You were always keen on paying your informants, though you always give the most useless currency that information demands. I suppose that the prophet will leave shortly after you and the boy have crossed? I fear that it will be a while still before the sea sees the idiot with the clipboard trembling before its rage." He hated the fact that every possible way out of this mess, that was Potter visiting Black, had Dumbledore blocking his passage. There was nothing he could do without going up against the old man. There was even less he could do without having fudge and the media crucifying him too. It seemed Potter would be spending a lot of time in the room in front of him from now on.

"I will leave you to deal with the good-doctor then." Moody answered his voice smiling in amusement, "I will send your regards to Dumbledore, Haden."

Damn Dumbledore. "I don't need to show you the door Mad-eye."

He was answered by the trademark clunking of Moody's leg as he left without a word. He wished the current circumstances would change so that he could talk to Moody freely, without being controlled by his feelings of betrayed and anger. Azkaban had been his very own little corner of peace for the past couple of years. It was unfair that the ministry, the media and Dumbledore chose to invade it now. These days he couldn't even enjoy lying awake at night listening to the screaming and mutterings of the prisoners when the dementors went around for their nightly feedings. He couldn't appreciate the reckless ocean or the cold weather it threw against his windows. All he thought about now, were the old days. The day's when he was still blissfully unaware to the state the wizarding world was in.

All the idiots that passed themselves off as witches and wizards made him sick. What did any of them know about magic? About being magical beings? What happened to the wisdom, power, diversity, fairness, cunning, kindness and courage that their kind had once been known for? They had become an inferior race hanging on the lies that oozed out of the magazines and news papers. He would rather spend his time here in the company of murderous scum than in the presence of those fools.

"Right!" he bellowed suddenly catching the photographer's attention before he took an _adorable_ snap shot of the little brat leaning over to give his filthy godfather a quick hug. "I want all you outside azkaban's doors now! You have all stayed within her long enough." The reporter made to protest but after Haden through her a cold look both of them quietly got up and left.

He looked back at the observation wall, towards the sight of two guards dragging a smirking Black back to his cell. These visits were doing nothing to deteriorate his mental health. Indeed the way he had acted during the entire visit was not the way a mentally unstable lunatic should have acted. This probably meant that the shrink would have no evidence to support a transfer out of Azkaban. Damn Dumbledore.

"Warden?" the doctor something-something spoke politely next to him, "I was wondering if I could ask you a couple of questions regarding Sirius Black?"

"To that, I assume you already know the answer." Haden muttered darkly. He didn't like these kinds of doctors, and they always seemed to find him fascinating. He never stuck around long enough to find out why. He usually just obliviated them and filled out his own report. "I have been ordered to accommodate your every desire, my good lady." He said before she could raise her eyebrow at him.

He turned his head to look at her, and couldn't hold back the wolfish smirk that tore open his mouth. She faltered a bit, though seemed to push it aside quickly, "I was wondering why seven years imprisonment here doesn't seem to be affecting him at all. Aren't there Dementors stationed outside his cells at all times?" she turned towards her clipboard with her quill ready in her hand.

"Yes." He said shortly, then pushed himself upright, "anything else?"

"So, if there are dementors guarding his cell at all times, why isn't he insane?" she asked quietly looking back down on his clip board and flipping through the pages.

Haden shrugged, "How would I know? I just keep the dementors in check, organize the auror shifts and attend the funerals. Now, if my lady doesn't mind leaving the way she came…" he nodded over to the door. "I have work to do."

He left the room without another word, not bothering to look back at her frowning face. Nothing was going his way anymore and it frustrated him terribly.


	5. Chapter 5

**Meeting halfway**

Rufus walked the twisting pathway through the cubicles, noticing how eyes were following him around suspiciously. He knew that none of the aurors trusted him, especially not the older ones. They were all too much like Moody. Most of them who had fought in the last war had a lot to say about the way in which the department was now run. Most of them didn't like the fact that he was head auror. He couldn't understand why.

He wasn't bad at his job.

It was just that they clearly didn't understand what the Head auror was supposed to do. You couldn't keep a country in check by following the rules. You did it by enforcing rules upon other people. Make them follow the laws. Give them a structured and ordered society. You had to keep the people in line, make them understand who was in charge. You couldn't let them all get too clever to the things that really happened in the ministry. There had already been too many rebellions in British History. There had been too many civil wars; too many struggles for power. He had to make sure that the ministry remained in control. He had to make sure that all threats to the ministry were eliminated before they gained the support they needed to be dangerous. It wasn't easy being the Head Auror.

He remembered the care free days when he was still new to the entire department. When he and Haden were still friends and Moody was still a firm believer in democracy. When he trusted the decisions made by his superiors and didn't mind doing what was asked of him. You only saw that eagerness in the young ones. As they grew into the ministry ranks and got a firmer grasp on what it means to be an auror, they tended to lose that trust. They became caught up between the knowledge of the unlawful things they were doing and the unlawful things that would happen if they didn't.

Times of peace always complicated things. It was easier to run a country that was caught up in war.

"Dwalish and Kingsley," he greeted as he came to a rest at the latter's cubicle. "I was wondering weather I could have a word with the two of you in my office." They were both newish to the ministry. Both of them came highly recommended. He watched as Dawlish shot a questioning look at his friend and then nodded quickly.

He turned lazily and began strolling towards his office. He could do with a drink.

He had come up with a solution to his problem. One he wasn't very keen on sharing with the minister at the moment. The worst had happened of course. After receiving a visit from Dr. Powly, the one he had sent to Azkaban a couple hours ago, he was left with a file that contained terrible news. For the good doctor couldn't find anything physiologically wrong with Sirius Black. Which was extremely disturbing seeing as the man had spent years in one of Azkaban's most highly guarded cells. According to the good doctor, Black had not once shown any hostility towards the Potter-boy nor had he said anything sinister or disturbing. Apparently the conversation they had had was completely appropriate and civil. She even noted how much Potter seemed to be benefiting from spending time with his godfather and recommended that the boy be allowed to visit him again.

She disregarded Black as being harmless.

It wasn't supposed to be that way.

Black was a mass murdered! Black was a death eater! Black was a traitor. A very sick man who sold out his best friend and probably sold out the ministry he was working for at the time. How on earth could he be harmless? The bastard! Where did all the justice in the world go to? How could it be possible that Black didn't reach across the table and strangle the little boy to death? To recommend that the boy spent more time with the traitor just made him so mad. Black deserved to die, painfully.

To make matters worse the Prophet had indeed sent a photographer and reported to witness the entire thing; which meant that in tomorrow's copy of the daily prophet a lovely picture of the two of them will appear on the front page, along with a sickening article about godfather and godson reunited. A terrible read no doubt, all about forgiveness and letting go of the past and all the rest of the bullshit that usually went along with that. It would be a disaster. What if someone asked about the other prisoners of Azkaban or suggested to retrial some of the death eaters sentenced there for life.

Rufus wasn't an idiot. He knew that the files of those trials were not in order and most of them were empty. He knew that it was one thing the ministry couldn't risk exposing to the public. Not a single law was followed during that confusing time after the fall of the dark lord. Not a single rule book opened during the time that they were sentenced to life in that hell hole. The very room in which they kept those incomplete records was locked away somewhere in the archives. Everyone wanted to bury them. Forget about them. All of them ashamed about what happened the first couple of months after You-know-who's death.

He pulled the door open and walked in hastily making his way to the liquor cabinet in the far corner. The plan he had was very dodgy, not at all reasoned out completely. It would be very dangerous and if the two of them were caught it would cause the entire situation to become even more bothersome. He tried to steady his shaking hand as he poured himself a whiskey. One of the perks of being head auror was that you could do pretty much anything. Especially with Fudge as the minister for magic. That idiot was so preoccupied with maintaining his position that he would believe anything you told him.

He knew the room was well warded. Whatever was said inside couldn't be over heard. However his heart was beating faster and faster. It was very risky, especially now that Haden seemed to show some interest in what he was doing.

The door closed behind him signalling that the two aurors were currently waiting for him.

He took a steadying breath and with his glass lazily swinging from his fingers he moved to lean against his desk and stare at the two of them with the most relaxed expression he could muster. They were both standing according to the book, backs straight and arms folded neatly behind. Legs situated comfortable apart and their heads held high, each bearing two very alert and excited eyes. They were both still very young.

"Well lads," he began saying, "It seems that the ministry has a problem and I was hoping that you'd solve it for us." He paused, taking note of how they reacted so far. A cold smile curled its way onto his face; they were indeed trained very well. He took a sip of whiskey and continued, "Of course, I cannot discuss the matter with the two of you in great detail. However, you both need to know that what you are about to do is of the utmost importance. You are to go to obliviate certain individuals. You cannot be seen or heard. Then you will take a portkey I will supply and…"

He loved rookie aurors, they would do anything you asked them to do without question.

* * *

When he was younger, he used to come down here and watch them all in their sleep. Listen to their pathetic mumblings as the Dementors floated by. He used to find it funny the way they used to drool and cry, caught up in their darkest memories. He would watch them gnaw at the filthy blanket or wooden frame of their cots, dreaming it to be a warm meal. He used to enjoy sitting in the shadows, hidden from their eyes as they thought about chewing through their wrist and giving up any hope of living. It used to put a smile on his face. When he was younger…

Now, all the fun seemed to have gone out of it. Haden sat in front of Black's cell feeling no joy inside at the suffering mutters of the prisoners around him. These days he couldn't enjoy the privileges that came with being the Warden. It seemed that with every passing day he just felt less satisfaction about the suffering all the bastards and bitches on this hell rock were going through.

Though he hadn't come here tonight to contemplate that, he was here for a very different reason. Today had indeed been most upsetting; what with that silly head doctor and prophet idiots walking his halls freely. All of them deserved at least a minimal sentence in this place. A month would put them in line nicely. He hated people who walked free. Everyone was meant to pay for their sins, not just the murderers and rapist trapped behind these walls. In his opinion there were worst things that committing such crimes. Unfortunately nobody would ever pay much attention to his opinion.

Haden had been waiting here in the dark wing for quite some time now. He expected them to be here earlier. It was already very close to midnight and rounds were going to start pretty soon. Unsurprisingly it was cold down here. The see leapt through the barred cell windows at ease and the wind sped effortlessly through the cells and down the corridor. He could see many of them shivering. He had seen them all shivering in much the same way. Black, being the exception.

There was just something about the man that never quite fitted into the surroundings. It could have to do with the fact that he miraculously was still here, was still alive, was still sane. Something that never stopped to bother Haden. It was not possible for something like that to happen. Especially not in this part of Azkaban. The average life expectancy of a prisoner in this part of the fortress was seven months. Yet Black had been here for seven years. Also, Black never shivered like the others did. He never cried or shouted out in the dead of night. It wasn't that the dementors didn't affect him, like any other man or woman he would black out or begin to cower in the corner furthest away from the barred door. It was just that he had always seemed so accepting.

Black made him uneasy. Sirius was certainly a prisoner he didn't want in his prison. Yet here Haden was, making sure the man would live to see dawn.

Haden had done many things in his life. He had seen many terrible things that have all left a bad taste in his mouth. He couldn't bring himself to let Rufus commit another one of those things without at least trying to stop it. He didn't really care much for wizarding law, but he knew wrong from right. He learned the difference between the two during the war. And for some reason he couldn't let Rufus kill Black off even if it was all justified.

He had let it all happen in the past. They all deserved it in the past. Black was just, different.

With Black it just wouldn't feel right.

His head shot up, the movement hidden in the shadows, at the sound of feet hitting the stone tiled floor of the hallway and quickly making their way towards him. He swiftly stood up straight, his wand held firmly in his hand and fixed his eyes on both the aurors that were currently magicking Black's cell door open. Just as one of them walked into the cell, his mind no doubt bent on killing the prisoner, Haden lashed his wand out violently sending a massive purple stunner streaking into the man's back. He was knocked clean off his feet and shoved into the wall at the far end of the cell.

With five sure strides he was behind the second man, and put the tip of his belt knife snugly against the man's adams apple, "Here is what you are going to do son. Listen carefully, cause I am just going to say this to you once." He could feel the man's muscles tightening. "You are going to pick up your buddy over there and haul his ass off of my island, you are going to take the portkey back to Rufus and give him this letter while you're at it." He freed two fingers from the wand in his left hand that was currently trained on the stirring figure on the floor, reached into his jacket pocket and took out the piece of parchment he had spent two hours writing on, after the good doctor left. He pushed it into the man's free hand and took away his knife from the man's neck.

Haden backed into the slimly cell wall behind him, switching his wand from his left hand to his right, ready for a fight if the young auror was stupid enough to seek one. However the Auror's eyes took him in once and then left in a hurry. He picked up his friend, who was struggling to stand up at the time and hauled him out of the cell and into the dark corridor. Haden didn't relax his grip on his wand until he heard their feet disappear up the steps of the distant hallway.

His gaze drifted over to Black's piercing blue eyes. He was wide awake and sitting upright in his cot, the thin blanket wrapped around him protectively. "Thank you, Sir." He said in a steady voice.

Haden's heart leapt, there was such respect in that voice. Respect he hadn't been shown in a long time. For a moment he couldn't help picturing the Sirius Black he used to know; the handsome young auror who he had taught stealth and tracking for a year…

Haden nodded back sharply and turned to leave, he didn't want to stare into those haunted eyes any longer. With a flick of his wrist the cell door flung shut and locked neatly. Haden began walking away quickly. Trying not to think of the things he saw in Sirius Black's blue eyes. Things he hadn't seen in Azkaban for a very long time.

Clear traces of gratitude and hope, lost amongst a sea of innocence.

* * *

 _Dearest old friend_

 _Let this be a lesson, not to send rookies to do your own work. I thought that eventually time would put your mind at ease. It seems I was wrong. You have a very ill mind Rufus. Do you honestly think taking Black's life would put your mind at ease? Why fight so hard for this? Do you not know that the war ended years ago old friend?_

 _Also_

 _Why do you think I was granted to title of Warden of Azkaban? Do you think it is because I am an incompetent drunken fool who could do the ministry no more good? I was put here for a reason Rufus._

 _Also_

 _You will meet with me at the Raven's Rider tomorrow afternoon and we will discuss everything that has happened tonight in length. Moody will also be present. I think it is high time the three of us had a nice chat. We clearly don't understand each other anymore. Bring a copy of tomorrow's Daily prophet will you. I am sure Moody will be more than interested in the reason why Black's face won't be in it._

 _Also_

 _Next time I will kill the idiots you send here without my permission, you sleazy, sadistic, power hungry maniac._

 _Also_

 _Thank you for solving my problem with the media._

 _Have a lovely evening._

 _Haden_

Rufus cursed loudly and fell backwards into his arm chair. Why was it that nothing ever went the way he planned it?

* * *

None of the chairs matched, none of the tables matched, none of the glasses were of the same make and the entire pub seemed to be falling apart. The wallpaper was peeling off in certain places and the wooden floors were sticky and stained. The chair beneath him creaked dangerously, telling him that the entire structure could collapse any moment. A layer of smoke clung to the ceiling and the bar was so crowded by people that he hadn't yet seen the barman. The muggle television was very loud and a bunch of drunken muggles were packed in front of it. In the corner of the room he had seen a young lad throw up the ill prepared meal the lad tried eating earlier the evening and as far as Rufus knew nobody had bothered cleaning it all up yet. It made his skin crawl.

He looked down at his wrist watch and winced, he had only been sitting here for twenty minutes. He knew he shouldn't have come so early. Haden was always there when he needed to be there, he would arrive the minute they agreed on. He always was very punctual. Moody on the other hand would probably be late; Moody never cared much for the rules. Rufus had come earlier hoping that the other two might have changed in the past couple of years.

Wishful thinking.

He flinched as his hand reached down and curled itself around the dirty glass to raise it to his mouth, he had to keep up appearances after all, there was no need to draw any attention to himself. He tried not to vomit as the beer was swallowed down his throat and he gladly put his glass back onto the table. It was a wonky table; all the legs seemed to be of different lengths. It irritated him so much.

He knew Haden was a very messy person, disorganized and dirty, but he couldn't understand why he would insist on meeting here after all these years. Rufus didn't exactly have the fondest memories of the pub. Back when they were still young aurors, Haden would always insist coming here after work. Haden would then get horribly drunk, pick a fight with some muggle and get thrown out into the street. Rufus usually had to drag his sorry ass back to the apartment they shared and patch him up. This went on for years until Haden got accepted into the Interrogation and Investigation section of the department and began working odd hours and late nights. Rufus didn't see much of him during those years; Haden would get home at late and then spent the rest of the night going through files in his room. Rufus had moved up in the ranks by that time and spent many weeks out in the field with Moody. After a year, the two of them hardly saw each other at all.

Then Haden got married and moved out of the apartment. That was around the time you-know-who started gaining power and the two of them never had time, to make time for each other. They hadn't really had a proper conversation in two decades.

He looked at his wrist watch again and then his eyes lifted up to meet the man who was walking through the door. Haden was always very punctual.

It was raining outside, it had been raining the past two days in London, and a cold wind forced its way into the pub earning Haden many shouts of 'Close the damn door!'. With a lopsided smile he apologized and shut the door firmly behind him, bringing back the muffled sound of rain battering the cobbled street outside to accompany the loud music and shouting muggles.

His old friend shook off his coat and walked slowly towards him with a cocky smile on his scarred face. Rufus's hand wrapped tightly around his wand beneath the table; back in the day Haden would never dare attack him in public, but after spending years trapped in that prison, Rufus wouldn't put it past him. Most people went mad in Azkaban after all and Haden never was one of the most stable people he knew. "You're on time." Rufus muttered darkly his eyes never leaving Haden's.

The smile widened as Haden sank down into the nearest chair, "It does my heart good to see you still trying so hard to be stay in control. Tell me my friend, after knowing me all these years, why wouldn't you try harder to do me in. That plan of yours had too many faults in it. When did you become such a reckless gambler?" Haden leaned forwards and took the glass from under his nose.

Rufus tried not to winch. Haden had figured it all out immediately of course. It wasn't very easy putting things past him and it seemed that he just got sharper as he became older. What an auror…he would have been a great asset to the ministry if he had chosen to stay on. Rufus didn't doubt for a second that he would have been head of Investigations if he hadn't left after the war. You couldn't hide things from him. "The main objective was to kill Black, and if you happened to go down after they investigated the entire thing it could only make things easier for me." Rufus said with a shrug; trying not to shiver when Haden gave him a calculating look.

"Were you really going to pin all those other prison killings on me as well Rufus?" Haden asked coldly.

"The Wizengamont don't like going through trouble. This you should know well. Why spent an extra two weeks on a full investigation when they could simply put the blame for the other killings on you. That would be really convenient, wouldn't it? It's not as if they really care about the prisoners in the first place. Along as the public thinks they do." Rufus watched him finding a small smile curling onto his face. "I suppose I didn't really put my heart into it."

"You make rash decisions when you aren't under pressure. You should have come to Azkaban and kill Black yourself. I would have expected you to grant him that privilege at least." Haden answered curtly. "Of course, you don't seem to like coming to Azkaban. I don't scare you do I?"

Rufus rolled his eyes. Haden knew exactly why Rufus didn't enjoy Azkaban. "I never lost a duel to you, old friend." Rufus said lazily.

A cunning smile appeared on Haden's lips, "Ah, but you did lose a girl to me once."

Rufus shook his head and grinded his teeth, nothing ever seemed to change. "You need a whiskey; you are far too somber to have a proper conversation with." He said in a strained voice. Haden had been alcohol dependent since the two of them were in the academy together. You could always tell when he had been deprived of alcohol for too long.

Haden snorted, "I finished the last of my Whiskey when that _Potter_ boy was visiting Black." He got up and moved past Rufus dropping a copy of the prophet in front of him. "I hope you get your facts straight old friend, I learned everything I know from Mad-eye after all." He snarled as he walked over to the bar and pushed through the crowd to get to the barman.

Rufus shook his head. He couldn't remember how he had befriended the man when they were younger, nor could he understand why he had chosen to do such a thing. Haden had always unpleasant. His attention fell on the day's copy of the daily prophet. He unfolded the paper and stared at the front page. He recalled staring at it a couple of times in the morning after he woke up. At the time he had such a headache that he couldn't appreciate his cunning while dealing with a very distraught minister.

On the front page was a story about a witch that was murdered somewhere in the midlands and a Wizard who disappeared on the same day from his house up in Leister, it went on for about three pages and was followed by the news of England's loss to the Italian Quiditch team. The rest was basically not worth reading. It was just another boring copy of the daily prophet. But he was very fond of this copy; it had no Sirius Black in any of the pages.

He closed his eyes and smiled happily. Even if the entire plan wasn't followed through the most important part had been done. Kingsley and Dwalish had destroyed all the evidence of Potter's meeting with Black and after Rufus pulled some strings and firecalled some people he managed to get the story left out of printing yesterday night. It appeared that murder was still much more important than forgiveness; there was still hope for his kind after all.

"You seem to be very pleased." Haden's voice interrupted his musings as he sat down at the table with his glass of whiskey, "I must admit I am impressed by it as well. You reacted to it all very quickly."

Rufus shrugged, "I get paid to."

"Only the ministry of Magic would pay someone to do such things." Haden nodded from the other side of the table, "do you still wonder why I left that circus? Or have you always known?" He rubbed the smooth glass that was cradled in his hands, "these past couple of years I was beginning to wonder if you signed up with the ministry all those years ago, knowing that this is what you would be doing. What gives you the right to chose who lives and who dies Rufus?" He finished quietly.

"I do what I need to do, to keep Britain intact. That was the contract we signed all those years ago." Rufus replied calmly. His gaze shifted to his wrist watch again and he started wondering how much longer Moody could be. He hadn't come here for this. He didn't come here to have this conversation with Haden. Rufus was good at his job.

"I think we should talk about our little problem, namely that brat and his idiot godfather. I think we should agree upon a solution." Haden said after a moment's silence, "I do not like Black. I do not want him in Azkaban and the same goes for that little bastard. You don't like Black, you don't like the fact that he is in Azkaban and you don't like Potter visiting him either. So, I suggest we work together to make our problems go away." Haden finished.

And as his old friend raised his weary eyes to look at him, Rufus saw it. The same sympathy, the same willingness to let go, the same look of doubt that Moody sported when he heard Black's pathetic confession of innocence to the Potter brat days ago. Haden didn't want Black in Azkaban because he thought Black didn't deserve it. He thought Black could be innocent. Didn't any of them get it? Didn't any of them understand? He could never allow Black to be innocent. The investigation alone would uncover so many lies and bribes, that the ministry would be torn apart by the media and over thrown by the people. He would never get a chance to sit behind that desk then… "All the evidence points towards Black being guilty and all the eyewitnesses clearly stated why they saw; even Dumbledore agreed that Black was guilty."

"Do not feed me that bullshit. I know about evidence, I know all about eye witnesses and I know everything about murder. I am telling you, that it all feels wrong. Something doesn't make sense. Something just doesn't fit." Haden hissed at him while leaning over the table.

"The rest does." Rufus pointed out slowly, "There is no time to correct past mistakes; we must accept them. Move on with your life Haden. Forget about it."

The warden sat back in his chair and let out a great sigh that was lost amongst the music and the mummers of the other people in the pub, "How do you live with the guilt?"

"I don't live with the guilt, I forget about it." Rufus said with a sad little sigh of his own. He wished Moody would hurry up and get here, he didn't like this conversation or where it was going. "I do what I need to do to keep the country from falling apar-"

"You mean you do what you need to do to keep your country from falling apart?" Haden cut across, anger present once more in his voice. "The only reason you are still in the ministry is because you have this idea in your head about putting some backbone back into the ministry."

"I am not waiting for that opportunity." Rufus answered him lazily.

Haden snorted, "Yeah right, I forgot, you like manipulating Fudge into doing your bidding. How long know have you been ruling over magical Britain Rufus? What five years?"

"Four and a half." Rufus corrected, "When is Mad-eye getting here, shouldn't we wait for him?"

Haden's face split into a calculating grin, "Mad-eye was never coming in the first place. I just thought you would be too scared to show up when it would just be the two of us and I think that I was correct. You would have loved it thought, wouldn't you? If old mad-eye was here listening to us fighting about the minister of magic and how you have been manipulating him into getting rid of the prisoners of Azkaban. I believe he would have been impressed with that entire fake assassination attempt you organized. He would have been very impressed by the way you planted evidence which led all the way to Azkaban, creating fear of that place and the people trapped there inside Fudge's heart. You would love to do that, wouldn't you? Get Moody to acknowledge that you are the one in charge and make him understand that you are the one running the show now."

Rufus pushed his chair back, he had no reason to stick around and listen to the drunk lunatic in front of him anymore. What did Haden know about anything? He was always so firkin clever. He was always the very best. Getting to run investigations and heading interrogations back when he was scarcely out of his bloody teens. It was unfair.

Rufus was the one who always worked the hardest, stayed up the longest and practiced the most. While Haden was out drinking with his other friends, Rufus had always stayed in doing al the paper work. It was his paper work that got Haden that position in the first place. It was unfair. It was always so bloody unfair.

He spent twenty years working underneath Moody. Being barked at and ordered around by the old man. Nobody else could honestly say that they ever spent more than a month working as the old dog's partner. Every other auror refused, but Rufus never complained once. It was embarrassing, and humiliating to be partnered up with that, that thing. While everyone else who was in the academy with him was running around catching murderers and rapist he was cleaning Mad-eye's wand, his boots, his locker, Rufus was going out to buy the man coffee and writing up the paper work. He spent the best years of his life trapped behind a desk because of that man. While Haden was out having the time of his life. It was all so unfair.

What made Haden smarter than him? All he ever did was drink and read. Then after years of sticking by his side, picking him up when he was too wasted to walk up the stairs, being his best friend and living with all of Haden's shit, the man repaid him by marrying his girl friend. Was there no justice in the world?

He never once complained, he never once did anything wrong, he never once put a toe out of line and yet everyone who did seemed to get further in life than him. After all that abuse, he deserved a chance to shine. It was his turn to be the best; to be the most powerful and the cleverest.

He threw the door open and stormed out into the pouring rain. He turned up the street and walked quickly, ignoring Haden's shouts behind him.

He deserved to see those prisoners all die and he deserved to sit behind that neat, smooth desk. After so many years of being everyone's favorite push over, of being the nice guy and the good friend he deserved a reward or two.

Haden couldn't talk about doing the right thing when the man had never done the right thing before. Haden used to be one of the cruelest aurors, more feared than Mad-eye and twice as unstable. He use to drag bodies into headquarters by the dozen. He use to beat the truth out of people, literary. He was a sick old bastard and the last person in the world that had the right to give him a lecture about doing the right thing.

Rufus had always been a very good auror and a much better human being.

He was a very good auror.

He was doing the right thing.

He was doing his job.

He was a very good auror.

He was doing the right thing.

He was doing his job.

He was a very good auror.

Rufus reached the end of the cobbled street that ran into a busy London road. Water was streaming off of him and eyes were squinting as he tried to see through the rain.

He was doing the right thing.

He looked back over his shoulder at the pub, were he could still make out the dark figure of a man leaning against the door frame staring at him intently.

He was doing his job.

Rufus turned on the spot and vanished.


	6. Chapter 6

**Christmas**

Harry pulled his knees up, and hugged them furiously with his arms. His teacher had gotten so angry at him that he had sent Harry outside for the rest of the lesson. Harry almost always made Mr. Mason angry. Mr. Mason almost always sent Harry out of his class and out of the school building. Today just happened to be a lot colder than the other days. Harry knew that it was getting closer and closer to Christmas.

The sky was very dull, and as far as he could see it was a dark gray. Like it was very sad and didn't want to try and look brighter. A nasty wind was pinching his back as it came around the corner behind which he was hiding today. Even the wind seemed very unhappy. Every now and then a drop of rain would fall. Though Harry knew it wouldn't start raining yet. Christmas always seemed to make all the other Kids so happy. But everything else seemed to get so sad. It was almost as if nature didn't like Christmas at all.

Dudley always got excited on Christmas. Aunt Marge would come over and bring lost and lots of presents for Dudley. Before Christmas Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon would go out every other day and come back with lost and lost of presents which they would hide in the attic.

Harry didn't really like Christmas because Aunt Marge would bring her dogs with and they didn't like Harry. They would always be growling at him or trying to bite him. He would never get presents like Dudley did. He never got anything Dudley got. It made him feel very sad sometimes.

But this year was different. He had Sirius. Maybe if Mad-eye would say yes, he could spend the entire holiday with Sirius. He didn't mind the jail. It wasn't that bad. Sirius could tell him stories about the Christmases he spent with his mum and dad. Then he would laugh at something funny in his head. And it would sound like a dog barking. And then they would have some warm hot chocolate. Like Aunt Petunia always made Dudley at night. They could maybe make a fire and melt marshmallows with it. And Sirius could hug him again and maybe, maybe Sirius could read him a bedtime story. Or if, Sirius didn't know how to read, then Harry could read him one. It would be wonderful.

Harry really didn't mind what story it was. It wouldn't matter. He didn't care. It would just be so, so nice to have someone read him one the way aunt Petunia always read to Dudley. Harry had to read his own stories because nobody every wanted to read them to him. But if Sirius could read, then maybe he could also do the funny voices for the different people. Could Sirius read?

Sirius smelt very bad. He also looked very dirty and very skinny. If Harry went to live with him in the jail place, would Harry look like that too after a while? Harry was already very skinny, but he wasn't dirty. He didn't think he smelt bad, but if he did it would explain why nobody liked being around him that much. Sirius liked being around him though. Maybe that was because Sirius smelt worse than he did. Or maybe Sirius didn't care. Harry didn't know which one it was but he hoped it was the last one. He wanted Sirius not to care about all the bad things about him. He wanted Sirius to like him. Maybe Sirius would like him after Harry gave him the presents.

Harry slowly looked down to the bag besides him. He was really excited to see if Sirius would like the presents. It took Harry a long time to make them and he hoped that they were okay. He didn't mind getting shouted at by Mr. Mason if it meant he could bring a few things to Sirius. There wasn't enough room in his bag for the cookies, the flask-thing, the drawing he had made and all his school things. It was more important for Harry to give his Sirius something nice than it was to not get shouted at. Harry was going to get shouted at anyway.

There were quite a lot of cookies though. Harry had to make them while aunt Petunia was out buying Dudley's presents. They were very cold by now, and they weren't as nice as the ones aunt Petunia made. But they were okay to eat. He did wish that he could bring along a story book too. Maybe after the cookies Sirius could read him some of it, or Harry could read Sirius some of it. Harry didn't know if Sirius could read. Though Harry was sure that his dad could read. Sirius said so in the one story he told Harry about his dad writing this letter to him mum and if you could write something, then you had to be able to read. You couldn't write something if you didn't know what it said. Right?

Harry liked reading. Though he didn't like writing. There wasn't really much to write about. He couldn't write about Sirius because if someone read it he would be in trouble. Mad-eye told him not to tell anyone. That it was a secret. That if a stranger asked him about it, he should just ignore them and walk home quickly. Harry trusted Mad-eye. He was a very old man. But a nice man. He always asked Harry a lot of questions and allowed Harry to ask him a lot of questions. It was very nice. Harry liked asking whatever he wanted to. Mad-eye always answered too. That was nice. Mad-eye was a nice man.

From inside the school building Harry heard the school bell ring. It was the end of school. And the kids in the classes stormed out. He could see all of them laughing and talking through the windows of the hallway. Soon they burst out of the swinging school doors and rushed off in all different directions. Harry slowly got up. He wondered if Mad-eye was already waiting for him.

Mad-eye said that he would get Harry at the bus stop down the road and that Harry didn't have to rush over or anything. Did that mean that Mad-eye wanted Harry to not come early? That maybe Mad-eye was going to be late? Harry didn't know but he didn't mind waiting if mad-eye was late. Dudley never went that way which meant that Dudley wouldn't be able to hit him or eat up Sirius's cookies. Harry knew that it was something Dudley would defiantly do. Dudley didn't know about Sirius and Harry thought that even if he did he wouldn't care.

Most of the kids walked in little groups down the street. Some even had their mothers and dad's waiting for them in cars. But Harry turned the other way and walked up the street hoping that Dudley didn't see him. He wouldn't like it if Dudley decided to bully him today. Harry didn't want to show up at the jail and have Sirius ask him questions about stuff like that again. Today was supposed to be great. Today was going to be great. He just had to make it down the street and towards the bus stop. Then Moody would take him to jail and he and Sirius could have hot chocolate and cookies. It would be just like the Christmas Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon always made for Dudley. It would be nice.

He was looking at his feet. And walking as fast as he could. He was sure by know that Dudley wasn't following him. Dudley would usually shout something at him. Something that always had the word freak in it. Harry's shoes were very worn out. And it didn't make his feet much warmer. But Harry didn't mind because Sirius didn't even have shoes. He was always barefoot. And that must be painful. The jail place was rather cold. Everywhere was stone floors. Except the place were Sirius always came to visit him. There it was carpet. Harry had never seen were Sirius stayed but from the books he had read, Harry knew his godfather stayed in a small cell. That was probably dirty and cold. Which would explain why Sirius was dirty and cold.

Harry looked over his shoulder as he reached the bus stop. Nobody was following him and far away he could see the other kids still streaming out of the school building. There weren't so many kids in the school, but they always did take a long time to get out of the building. Harry knew that he was supposed to be in detention. But somehow Mr. Mason had forgotten all about it. Harry didn't really want to remind him, and Mad-eye said it was best to forget about the entire thing. Though he had to tell his aunt that he still had detention. Harry wished he could tell her the truth. Even though she probably wouldn't like hearing it. Whenever Harry got something that made him happy aunt Petunia always managed to take it away. Harry didn't want Sirius to be taken away. He liked having Sirius.

"There is nobody there lad." Mad-eye's voice said, "You can stop checking."

Harry turned his head back forwards to see the old man sitting on the bench with his wooden leg stretched out in front of him. Mad-eye sometimes reminded Harry of some of the pirates he had read about in his story books. They usually had wooden legs and were missing an eye. Though when he told Mad-eye this the old man would shake his head and laugh. Harry didn't like it when people laughed at him. Especially not when he liked the people who were laughing at him. He wanted them all to think he was brilliant. He didn't want them to think he was silly. "Hello Mad-eye." Harry said softly.

He didn't want to stutter today. It would make everything so much more perfect. He didn't like it when he stuttered. People always looked at him funny. Even Mad-eye always gave him this odd look, like he knew things Harry didn't know. It made Harry feel more like a freak. Though Mad-eye never was really mean to him. He always was very nice to Harry. He didn't get angry at him very easily and Mad-eye didn't seem to mind the stuttering. Though he still had that look in his eye. The same look that Sirius had whenever Harry had a really hard time to tell him something. He couldn't understand the look. It made him feel stupid.

"Well then lad, you seem to be out of school very early… I need to talk to you about something. So I suppose it is all good that you came here quickly." Mad-eye said looking Harry in the eye. He motioned with his hand for the piece of bench besides him.

Harry bit his lip. There was something in the man's voice that really didn't make Harry comfortable. It was as if he was going to tell Harry some terrible news. Harry didn't like it when Adults went all serious like that. It usually meant that something bad had happened. He walked over towards Mad-eye and sat down feeling very nervous. "What – " he stopped the next words. He could feel himself mixing up sentences again. He was going to ask what was wrong, but he also was going to ask why Mad-eye looked so glum. The two sentences weren't going to come out good. Harry decided that it was safer to stop after the word what. It did sound rude though.

"I have things to do today Harry. I have to go meet up with a friend of mine and try to find some things out. I am going to be rather busy. So," Mad-eye continued, "We aren't going to be able to take the bus, then the train, then the boat because I won't have enough time to do all of it. Instead we are going to try something, much faster. I also need you to promise that you won't tell anyone about this faster way. Not ever your godfather. You can't talk about it okay?"

Harry nodded, "Okay." He said softly. What could possibly be faster than a bus or a train? There was no faster way to get to the jail place.

"Also," Mad-eye said while trying to stand up, "I won't be there to take you home today. So I am asking someone else to take you home after you finished visiting Sirius. You might not like him, and he is a very rude man Harry, but he is a good man. He will do what I asked him to do and you will be safe with this man. So then lad, get up and grab onto the tin."

* * *

"- this does not please me." The man named Haden said above him. "How can you expect me to allow this Mad-eye? The prisoners of Azkaban are here for a reason. Sirius Black is here for a reason. How then, can I allow this?"

"It is just a pack of cookies and a flask of hot chocolate." Mad-eye said holding up his school bag. "Surely you aren't that Jealous?"

"I do not envy that man." Haden spat across the table.

Harry dug his hand deeper into the warm fur of the dog he was petting. It was all still very confusing for him. One moment he was still sitting on the bus stop near his school. The next he was falling to the ground of the rude man's office. Harry knew he was at the jail place because he could hear the sea all around him. Harry liked the man's, Haden's, dog. He wasn't at all like the dogs aunt Marge always brought over during holidays. He was really nice and rather old, he also leaned into Harry's hand every time Harry rubbed the dog's belly. It was a lovely dog.

"Then why do you stay here Haden? Why have you banished yourself to this hell rock? Why don't you find a nice cottage somewhere in Wales and spend the rest of your life buying and reading books? Its what you want to do. But for some reason you choose to stay here." Mad-eye said angrily from the other end of the table above Harry.

From what he could tell, they were walking around it shouting at each other. They both seemed to be very angry about the cookies and hot chocolate they found in Harry's bag. When Haden had asked Harry to please leave his school things in the room, Harry had told them about how he wanted to take Sirius a piece of Christmas. He couldn't understand what the big deal was. They weren't ever good cookies.

"What are you saying? That I wish to be in his shoes? That I wish I was the one suffering the nightmares and the memories?" Haden asked furiously again his voice slowly but surely moving around the desk.

"Maybe that is exactly what I am saying Haden."

Harry stopped stroking the dog's belly. There was something different in Moody's voice this time. It wasn't angry any more. It seemed sad. Harry bit his lip again and curled his body against the dog. He didn't want to make Mad-eye sad. Mad-eye had been really nice to him. If the cookies made them all so angry then they should just have told him that he wasn't allowed to bring Sirius anything that had to do with Christmas. He really didn't want to make any of the people he had met recently sad. They all treated him really well. They treated him as if they were friends. Harry never really had friends and it was so nice being able to talk to someone like Mad-eye and Sirius about, about anything. He didn't want to upset them, give them any reason to treat him differently.

Mad-eye sighed deeply, and Harry watched from under the table as his wooden leg clunked it way to the door. Mad-eye was leaving. Harry would be stuck with Haden, who didn't at all seem like he liked Harry. Harry wanted to call out to the old man, maybe tell him that he wanted to go home. That they wouldn't have to bother with the visit thing today. That he was sorry for bringing along the presents. But Harry didn't want to stumble over his words again and a big part of him still wanted to see Sirius. The door swung close and Haden fell into his arm chair his feet falling to either side of it and his one foot coming to rest very close to Harry's head.

Harry bit his lip and pressed in closer to the doggy who seemed to be fast asleep at the moment. It was as if the dog was used to Haden's shouting. As if the doggy had seen Haden get angry many times. Harry thought that maybe if he lay really still, Haden would forget that Harry was here. Then when he went out of his office to do something Harry could sneak out and go find Sirius's cell. He could take the cookies along, from what Harry knew they were on the desk above him. It wasn't a very big desk and Harry was sure that he could find them easily. Then he could spend a couple of hours with Sirius and come back here. He could sleep under the desk at nights lying next to the doggy. It was warm in the office and rather nice. Harry believed that if he was really quiet he could maybe be able to live here for a couple of days.

He doubted anyone would miss him. He doubted Haden would really care. Then he could spend the entire holiday with Sirius. Maybe Harry could even take one of Haden's books and Sirius could read it to him, or he could read it to Sirius if Sirius couldn't read. Harry was sure that Haden wouldn't miss just one of his books. He had so many of them and they were everywhere. The entire office floor was stacked with them. Harry thought that it was a wonderful room. Everywhere were books and files, pictures and papers. There was so much in the room to read. The carpet was also very nice. It was warm at least.

The foot next to his head shifted a bit. Harry squirmed into the doggy. He didn't want the foot to hit his head. Then Haden would know he was still there and then Harry would probably have to go back to the dursleys.

"Potter, you can come out you now." A soft voice said to him.

Harry slowly opened his eyes to see Haden's face looking at him. Haden was leaning over the arm rest of his chair with his one hand supporting him on the desk. His neck was turned downwards and the man's upside down face stared at him blankly. Harry slowly let go of the doggy. Feeling the man's eyes watching everything he did. He pushed himself backwards across the carpet until he was out from under the desk. Harry stood up. "I'm s-sorry." He paused again. He didn't mean to speak like that. It sounded so stupid.

Haden slowly pulled himself back into an upright position. He didn't say anything but stared at Harry with the same blank look on his face. Harry was very confused by it. You couldn't tell if the man was angry, or sad. It was blank. You couldn't tell anything from looking at him. Usually when people were happy, the smiled. Even if they didn't always smile with their mouths there eyes were still sparkling happily. Haden's eyes were quiet and dark. Harry didn't like the look with which the man stared at him. It was as if there was nothing inside of him. As if there was no happiness. As if there was no anger. As if there was no sadness. Harry thought it that Haden just looked, tired.

Not the kind of tired were you needed to sleep. It was a different kind of tired. One that you couldn't get rid of by sleeping. It was as if Haden's soul was tired. Though his body wasn't.

Harry thought that Haden seemed like a very tired man.

Haden tilted his head, and sighed, much the way that Mad-eye had sighed before he had left. "I have already arranged that your godfather be taken out of his cell. We should be able to go down soon." He paused looking quickly towards the cookies and pulling a face, "you can take your presents with, if you like."

Harry nodded, bit his lip again and reached out for the bag of cookies. He slowly pulled it off of the table and began walking around towards Haden. He didn't really know why he was going to do this, but Harry didn't like the tired look in the man's eyes. Whenever Dudley got tired he would always ask Aunt Petunia for sweets. He said that the sweets gave him energy. There wasn't a lot of sugar in his cookies. He couldn't risk taking too much, aunt Petunia would ask questions about it. But cookies were still sweets.

Haden's eyes followed him all the way around the table and then stopped at the same time that Harry stopped in front of him. Harry took a deep breath, "Would you like a cookie." Harry said slowly holding out the bag towards the man. "They – they aren't that bad. I – I made them myself. They aren't as sweet as. As sweet as I would have liked them to be. But they are g-g-good."

For a moment after Harry said that, there was a great silence between them. Just when Harry thought he should pull away Haden nodded slowly, an odd look in his eye; one that was still tired, but different somehow.

"Thankyou." Haden said hoarsely his scarred hand reaching slowly into the bag.


	7. Chapter 7

**Speculation**

His eyes were trying to map out the darkness in which he stood. It seemed that it had rained heavily in Surrey beforehand because his boots were sinking into the muddy grass that glimmered slightly in the light that the adjacent street's lamps brought into the park. Above him the night was pitch black with clouds that promised to bring more rain later on in the evening. The only sounds were those of the distant cars and the shallow breathing of the Potter brat someone behind him near the big tree that towered above him unclothed and shivering. It was a nasty wind that winter always brought to the mainland.

Haden breathed out slowly. It had been nearly ten minutes. If there were any more in the current surroundings they would have made a move their move on him by now. In his fist he held a set of dog tags. He couldn't make much out of them in the semi darkness. There was no use of them anymore; he had listened as the last living man drowned in his own blood. They were all long dead by now.

Things were moving along quickly all of a sudden. Rufus was beginning to play rough.

Haden paced around the dead bodies, his eyes darting in all directions. He wasn't sure if he had gotten all of them, four trained assassins seemed like a lot of men to hire just to capture a little eight year old. Mad-eye might have been the greatest auror in the history of Britain but he wasn't an auror any more. Moody was an old man now, and four Russian mercenaries would be able to keep Mad-eye occupied long enough to kidnap Potter. Perhaps this was why Mad-eye talked Haden into bringing Potter home.

The older man never specified how long he was going to visit Rufus. If Rufus had expected to find Potter with a different escort, which he probably did, then he would have hired more than four mercenaries for the job. Rufus knew very well not to underestimate someone he did not know. Which meant that there were probably others like them hanging around the village, or watching them at this very moment.

He had the feeling that something was going on in the village. He had the feeling that something wasn't quite right. He could understand why Rufus would send these goons but he couldn't understand why there were only four of them. It wasn't like Rufus to send so few on such an important mission. Another thing that bothered him was the quality of help he ended up hiring. None of the dead men around him had a lot of skill with this sort of job. They were all horrible duelers and clumsy men. It wasn't like Rufus to hire sell swords that weren't the best. A rookie auror could easily best these dead men.

Something wasn't right.

Haden knelt down, flinching as the flesh wound in his back strained, and pulled his belt knife out of his dead victim's lifeless body. The blade slid effortlessly out of the long curving slit in the mercenaries front that started below his navel and ended somewhere below the sternum. He brought the knife up to his knee and wiped the worst of the blood onto the fabric of his old jean. He carefully sheathed the knife and pulled his shirt over it so that the boy wouldn't be staring at the bloody handle and asking questions about it later. Carefully, Haden pushed the gutted man onto his front.

He couldn't see much of their faces in the dim light that shone into the park from the distant street lamps. There were four dead Russian wizards lying in the middle of a park in a muggle village. It wouldn't be long until someone discovered them. Haden wasn't even going to try and get rid of the corpses. He had done everything that was necessary; he had removed their wands and any magical item that they carried on their person. The muggle police could deal with the remains.

Haden stood up and backed away from the bodies. He was still unsure of the surroundings and expected someone else to leap out at any moment. He couldn't risk taking the boy home now. He couldn't risk walking out of the dark park and into the lit streets. They could be anywhere, most probably looking for him. He would have to take the boy back to Azkaban. It was the only place Haden was comfortable with at the moment. It would also be the safest. Haden would know if someone tried sneaking into the fortress. He knew the fortress' layout; he knew all entrances and exits. Haden wasn't at all familiar with this village. He didn't know where he was, how far away from the boy's house he was or how quickly he would be able to get the boy to his house. Haden looked down to the base of the tree he stopped at and with his foot he prodded the small figure that lay there. The boy flinched and pulled his head even further into his arms.

Haden sighed, they really didn't have time waist. He bent down once again and with his bloody hand Haden gently shook the brats arm.

"Potter, it's okay, they are gone." Haden whispered he pulled the boy's shoulder out and uncurled him, "It's okay, you can uncover your ears and eyes now."

He felt the little boy's muscles relax slightly and saw the slow movement of the boy's arms falling away from his face. Out of the darkness two green eyes glowed at him; scared and nervous. Haden saw Potter's teeth chewing on the lower lip again. He could feel Potter's body move up and down rapidly as Harry tried to steady his breaths. The kid was hysterical and probably hurt too. Potter had received a nasty kick in the rib cage from one of the mercenary's boots. That would have broken something at least. Harry needed to get out of here quickly. It wasn't doing him any good to linger here in the dark.

Haden easily shifted his grasp on the boy and lifted the kid as he stood up. They would apparate to the shore. The boat man would have already gone home; which meant that Haden would have to navigate to ocean alone. It wouldn't be a problem. His main concern was Potter. He didn't really think the boy would be up for a boat ride. The alternative would be to make a portkey. Which he would probably get into trouble for; something told him that this time Rufus wouldn't be so lenient with him making illegal portkeys. Haden would probably be asked to attend another disciplinary hearing about his disregard for wizarding law. He wouldn't put it past Rufus to be that petty.

Haden looked downwards as Potter made a sudden movement in his arms, shifting his weight and turning his body slightly, a small hand reached up and curled around a fistful of Haden's shirt. It was a sign of trust; it was a gesture that symbolized dependence. A smile floated onto Haden's face. Potter had a knack for doing the sweetest things. He really wasn't such a bad kid after all.

Haden didn't really know a lot of people who trusted him out right. It was a risky business to trust someone. You would always be let down; you would always be left alone in the end. He couldn't really trust his family when he was younger. His mother was always off with some other guy. She was also a terrible drunk and she would rather let both her sons starve than live a day with an empty liquor cabinet. He couldn't trust her for shit. He hated his mother. She always seemed to forget that there were other people in the world besides her. She always used to forget his brother and him at school. Haden and his brother would usually have to find their way home themselves. They would make their own dinner because nobody was ever there to feed them. He used to go days without seeing either of his parents. His father was always so wrapped up in his work. He worked in the department of mysteries. He wasn't at home much. All his aunts and uncles hated his parents. So naturally they hated him. He couldn't really trust anyone except his brother.

After his brother died, he never really got around to placing any trust in anyone he worked with. So nobody ever really placed any trust in him.

It was odd to know that another living human was currently seeking refuge by trusting him. Harry Potter was a sweet kid.

* * *

Haden let go of the trash can lid and it fell noisily onto the floor. He let Harry slip slowly out of his arms and felt the fist that still held onto his shirt uncurl. As soon as Potter's feet were both firmly on the ground, Harry stepped away from Haden. His face still very scared and his eyes glowing with confusion as they took in the familiar surroundings. It had only been a couple of minutes ago that Harry had been here. After his visit with his godfather Haden had sat Harry down and explained to him very clearly that he never wanted Harry to bring in any presents to give to his godfather again. After which Haden used the Portkey Mad-eye had used to get here and took Potter back to his village. A couple of minutes after walking down the road and taking a shortcut through the park, they were attacked. Haden knew that Potter probably wouldn't remember things this way. The kid probably recalled the conversation and then the dark park followed by the pain of the kick he had gotten there.

He watched as Harry backed away into the wall and then silently shrunk down to the floor where he sat hugging his knees. Haden didn't know much about dealing with this sort of thing. His brother never tolerated such behavior. He didn't know what to do. The kid wasn't all right. The kid was in shock. The kid was having a hard time. Harry needed someone who knew how to comfort. He needed a healer to look at his ribcage. He needed a mother to cuddle him. He needed the comfort of a home. Harry wouldn't be able to find any of that here. Haden couldn't give that to him… but his godfather could.

Potter would be staying the entire night. Until Haden felt that it was safe to take him home. Here he could keep an eye on the boy and make sure nobody tried to do Harry in. He couldn't let the boy leave the office. The dementors would make an easy meal out of him. Haden would have to do something which could defiantly cost him his job, if anyone ever found out.

The office was already dark. Lazily Haden flicked his wand in the direction of the fire place and ignited a healthy blaze that instantly lit the room with a comforting light. It softened the rooms appearance and made it seem like so much more than just the office he worked in. He then proceeded towards the door. He remembered when he was younger; he used to hate it when his mother locked him in his dark room alone while she was off doing something else. The least he could do, was give the boy the comfort of light while he was gone fetching his godfather. Haden closed the door.

He used to love wandering through Azkaban at night. There was something about the plain stone walls that made him feel safe. There was something about the dark rooms and cold hallways that made him feel powerful. There was something about the muttering and shouts of prisoners in their sleep that made him feel as if he was doing some good for a change. He used to love wandering through Azkaban at night. Recently, however, that had all changed.

It always came back to Sirius Black. He always went back to Sirius Black. It seemed as if the man completely spoiled Azkaban for him. Haden didn't feel good when he looked at the suffering form of Sirius Black. He didn't feel satisfaction at knowing that a murderer like Black was stuck in this endless hell. Somehow, just looking at the man ruined the high he usually got from watching his captives suffer. He was struggling to sleep again and wouldn't dare go back to St. Mungoes for some more sleeping medication. He had already tried every potion and herb that encouraged sleep. The healer he always went too had been suggesting therapy for years now and he didn't want to give her more reason to do so. She was a very hard woman to say no to.

He stopped, his feet standing in front of the cell that belonged to Sirius. He used to like this part of the Azkaban the most. The sea could be heard clearly and you could almost feel the waves beating against the building. The endless flow of cool wind rushing in and out of the cells windows connected everything in a way that no other part of the prison was connected.

He didn't pay much attention at Sirius's lean figure sitting upright in the darkness. Haden didn't think that Black slept much. He was probably thinking about his godson and wondering what the boy was doing at the moment. Haden had been observing him for a couple of day's now.

Haden slowly moved his wand over the lock and cursed as it bolted open causing a loud noise to rise shortly above the continuous roar of the sea. He slowly slid the bars open and motioned at Black's dark figure to stand up and follow him quietly. They couldn't really afford to talk at the moment. Black was just going to have to trust him like Potter did. If Black tried to do anything funny, Haden supposed he had enough reason to just kill the man on the spot. He would just have to keep things under control. He would just have to keep an eye on Black. In the morning, he would bring the man back to his cell and nobody would ever have to know about it.

Haden didn't really get to see Black's figure until they closed the door behind them and were standing in the main corridor. Haden lit his wand point and blinked away tears as his eyes adjusted to the sudden light. "Black, while I was taking Potter home, we encountered some trouble." He started saying looking at the man steadily. "we were attacked by several men hell bent on killing us. I took care of the little problem."

Black was rather dirty; his hair long and greasy, his beard wild and wiry. His eyebrows were knitted together in concern, "Is he alright?" Sirius asked quietly.

Haden shook his head, "he isn't hurt but I very much doubt that he is alright. He is in my office now. You will forgive me for pulling you away from your nights rest but I believe that you are best qualified to take care of him."

Black nodded slowly. Haden could understand that the man had many questions to ask about this. A flame of hope flickered within his eyes. It would be something Haden could squash out later. For the time being he would continue treating Black like he would treat any other human because, for the time being Black had a use. He turned to lead the way to his office, "Try me Black and the sea will have you tonight still."

Haden made sure his one hand was on the slippery hilt of his belt knife and the other was glued to his wand. It was wrong to have your back turned on someone you didn't trust.

A lot of things about Black made Haden uneasy. There was too much of his story that didn't make sense.

Why would someone like Sirius Black, betray his best friend to Voldermort? Why would Black swear his allegiance to the dark lord anyway? From what Haden remembered about the man he always seemed to have a hatred of the dark arts; a great disliking of dark witches and wizards. He came from a family that was very shady, and it seemed that the kid had turned away from all of that. Black was such good friends with Potter. It didn't feel right for such a friendship to fail. It never sat right with Haden. Black was an auror, he killed and captured many death eaters; was quite the promising auror back in the day. Would his Lord really have approved of all the things Black had done against him and his followers while working in the ministry ranks? It didn't make sense.

Haden sighed as he opened the door and walked into his office. He checked around to locate Potter and saw the boy sitting in front of the fire scratching Kaci behind the ears. The old dog seemed to like the little boy a lot. The boy's head turned backwards and he looked at the two of them with a puzzled frown. "Sirius?" he asked softly.

Black walked silently past him taking in the room with an odd look in his eye. Haden's grasp on his wand tightened. Maybe this wasn't such a great idea after all. He wasn't sure how this meeting would go. It could have all been an act up to now. Sirius slowly sank down next to Harry and stared at the fire for a while. The change in temperature between Black's cell and the office was huge. "Hello again Harry." He said in a soft voice.

Sirius glanced down at the boy then backwards towards Haden. He seemed to be remarkably uncomfortable with the entire situation. "You okay kid?" he asked as his eyes darted back to Harry.

Haden closed the door behind him and walked over to his desk. It wasn't as if he was going to be much help in a situation like this. The best thing he could do at the moment was to try and stay out of it as much as possible. The boy seemed fine. A few minutes alone seemed to have done him wonders; but even if he actually was fine now, it would be good for Harry to have some familiar company. Haden wasn't much of a conversationalist and he didn't know a thing about looking after children. He would have to keep an eye on Black. If Black did anything funny, Haden would simply kill him.

At least with Black and Potter in the same room it would be easier keeping them both safe. From his meeting with Rufus the other night, Haden got the impression that the head auror was going about this his way. Haden doubted that the man was looking for a peaceful solution.

He leaned back in his chair, his wand balancing lazily on his fingers and he watched the scene. Harry was currently looking into the flames his lip trembling between his teeth as if he were trying his best not to cry. The boy was always trying to hold everything back when he was in front of his godfather. He always tried to hide the upsetting truth. To Potter's great misfortune, the boy was a terrible liar. The truth dripped out of him. In the way he spoke, what he said, how he sat and most noticeably; his eyes. Those green orbs couldn't hide anything.

Sirius looked over at him again. The frown he had seen in the main corridor still etched into his face. Haden simply nodded over at the boy. Sirius was brought here for a purpose. If he was going to be of no help, then he might as well have stayed in his cell.

Black awkwardly wrapped his arm around the little boy's shoulder and pulled him into a uncomfortable hug. Potter melted into Black's side and his face burrowed its way into the filthy rags his godfather was wearing. The boy's body shook silently as the first soundless sob escaped him.

Haden averted his eyes. He pulled a book off of his table and opened it to the bookmark. He thought that he could afford to get some reading done.

* * *

A sharp object plunged into his side and Sirius's eyes jerked open.

A dim light lit the carpeted floor, showing the many stains and scorch marks. The fire had burned down so that only the embers remained; huddled together in dark fire place. Tiny pulsing red veins were etched into black ash that lined the warden's fire place; they radiated warmth that gently beat against his face. He hadn't woken up to such pleasant temperatures in years. Usually he woke up to the sound of the sea running up the rock wall of his cell and hurling itself through the barred window. He usually woke up wet; his lips tasting like sea water and his entire body numb with the cold air that usually drifted through the prison.

There was something warm curled up against his stomach; Sirius shifted his eyes downwards to see the black mop of hair that belonged to his godson. Sirius felt another smile break out on his face and absently reached towards the boys head. He gently supported Harry's body while he shifted away so that he could sit up right and slowly turned Harry's body so that he was curled up on his side. He didn't want to wake Harry up. If Harry was anything like James, he wouldn't be much of a morning person and by the looks of the faint light fighting its way through the windows it was very early in the morning. The kid had been through a lot the previous day; Harry could do with some rest.

Sirius pulled one knee up and hugged it with his arm; he leaned back on the other hand and turned his head away from the fire to search for the thing that woke him. His eyes landed on the silent figure of Haden standing above him. Haden had a very odd expression on his face; the gray morning light warped it so that it looked sad. He was standing with a glass of whiskey in his one hand; Sirius could see the dark liquid reflecting the dying embers of the fire within it. When Sirius was younger, he remembered never seeing Haden without one. The man really liked his whiskey. You couldn't really hate him for being a drunk. He was too bloody brilliant to disapprove of. Sirius still couldn't believe how any of this had happened. He still couldn't believe that he had been trying to fall asleep in his cell a couple of hours ago, and somehow ended up in the warden's office with his godson.

Sirius couldn't help feeling his good mood vanish. He would be back in his cell in a couple of minutes and this would probably never happen again. This was a once in a life time occurrence. Tomorrow it would be back to the usual routine. Sirius wondered when he would see Harry again. If he would see Harry again. Someone clearly didn't like that fact that Harry was visiting him. There had been an attempt on both their lives so far and Sirius knew for a fact that Rufus Scrimgoeur was behind it. Haden had saved both his and Harry's ass now. Sirius didn't think he could ever return the favor.

"You really didn't do it." Haden's whispered, his voice was as faint as the morning light. Haden's eyes were drilling into his. His face still arranged in a very odd way. "You really didn't kill all those men. You really didn't betray Potter. You really are innocent." His voice concluded. Haden raised the glass to his lips and slowly closed his eyes. "Innocent." He muttered before he allowed the whiskey to flood into his mouth.

Sirius felt his heart leap. When Harry said that he believed him, it was all done in childish faith. Harry didn't know the facts. He didn't know what really happened. Harry didn't really care. Haden on the other hand was an adult. A very clever adult who knew most of the facts, who had been present as his sentencing and had been keeping his locked up for seven years. To head those words come out of his mouth, shocked him. Unlike Harry, Haden could actually do something about it. Haden could actually get him a retrial. He was the warden of Azkaban, he had some weight to throw around at the ministry.

The glass was lowered away from the man's face and shifted onto the messy table on which he leaned. Haden's face frowned and then smoothed out again, "You don't act like a murderer at all Black. You don't have the look of a guilty man about you. I don't feel like you deserve Azkaban. I don't feel any hatred towards you at all. I never really have. I don't think I have every truly believed you were capable of murdering those people, betraying James and taking Voldermort of as you Lord. It never really felt right to me. I even let you stay the night in my office; which I would never trust myself to do with a murderer or thief."

"You bother me. You always have. Lately I haven't been able to stomach the fact that you were in my prison. You don't belong here. It doesn't feel right. There is no really evidence to keep you here. Nobody has any real proof that you committed the crimes you were charged for. In fact, after checking your wand for spells used straight after your capture, no such spell was recorded. The only solid evidence we actually had proved your innocence. You didn't have a trial. You were sentenced ass an innocent man in the eyes of the law. I wonder what really happened that day." Haden asked tilting his head.

Sirius took a deep breath, he pushed himself off of the carpet, "I cornered Peter, and then-"

"It was a rhetorical question Black. I don't want to ever know the answer." Haden interrupted. "I am not saying that you are innocent." He pushed himself away from the desk and walked forwards, "What I am saying is that you were never proven guilty. In this country, and under our law, you are innocent until proven guilty." He came to stop in front of Sirius's face. The smell of alcohol attached Sirius's nostrils. Haden tilted his head to the other side, "I do not want innocent men in my prison. So here is what you are going to do Black. You are going to take this wand," his hand came up slowly and the fist uncurled around the wooden wand that lay there, "You are going to shave off your beard and cut your damn hair. You are going to use my bathroom and take a damn shower. You are going to put on some clean clothes. You are then going to take your godson and leave Azkaban. You smell like shit, and you look like hell. You will probably end up giving the boy fleas unless you clean up a bit…" Haden shrugged his shoulders and shoved the wand into Sirius's hand. "I am going out for the day. I never want to see you are him again." He finished jerking his head in Harry's direction.

With a wolfish grin Haden turned on the spot and walked towards the door. Sirius just stood there in the semi darkness listening to the sound of the door opening and closing. This had to be a dream.

* * *

Hot clean water was running down his back. Sirius moaned with pleasure. He hadn't had one of there in seven years. His hand reached for bottle of shampoo and emptied it onto his head. The empty bottle feel towards the floor, the clatter it made was drowned out by the sound of rushing water falling from the shower head and hitting the tiled floor beneath his bare feet. His fingers began rubbing the cold shampoo into his head. It was an action that felt so very foreign to him. His hands seemed to have forgotten how to do.

He rinsed his hair, and reluctantly turned off the water. He would fully appreciate it some other time. At the moment he had a lot to do. Sirius reached up and pulled off a fuzzy towel. His fingers mesmerized by the soft feel of it. He had been so used to cold rock and iron bars. The towel was soft and warm. He dried off his body and wrapped it around him before he slid the shower door open and stepped out onto the cold stone floor. He walked over to the sink were a stolen pair of Haden's clothes lay waiting for him. Clean close. He wouldn't ever have to wear those rags again. These ones weren't hardened by sea water and dirt. They were clean and smelled good.

His hand reached for the wand Haden had given him. The man probably had a collection of wands. He was after all an auror. You could never have too many wands if you were an auror. With his free hand, Sirius wiped the mist off of the mirror. A scrawny face starred back at him. Beard and long black hair sticking to his neck. Sirius flinched at the sight of him. He hadn't really thought about his appearance. It hadn't been that important to him in years. There were no mirrors in the cells. He did look like shit. If Sirius went on the run looking like this he would draw a lot of attention towards himself. Haden had been right. He did need to get rid of the beard.

Sirius hadn't shaved in years. It was odd therefore to move the wand over his face and muttering a spell to cut the hair off. It was odd holding a wand again. It was very weird using magic. It was as if his body had been craving to use magic and now that it finally got to do that, it seized up. It was very difficult for Sirius to remember most of the spells he had learned at Hogwarts. Even more difficult to use them.

His free hand pulled the strands of beard away and deposited them in the sink.

"Sirius." A small voice whispered.

Sirius turned his head towards the door. He relaxed a little when he saw that it was only Harry. The boy had obviously woken up. Sirius frowned when he saw his godson slowly turning away with a sorry frown on his face. "Harry, where are you going? What's wrong?"

The boy stopped his hand just visible on the door knob. Harry spoke from behind the door, his voice sounding very hesitant. "I – I am sorry. I – I – I didn't know you were…"

Sirius shook his head; it wasn't as if he was totally naked. It was odd because he couldn't ever recall James having a problem with nudity. Then again Prongs was always a bit too open about everything. "If it makes you feel uncomfortable then I suppose I could get dressed yeah? Just, hold on a moment." He dropped the towel and reached for the boxer shorts and jeans.

Underwear, now there was something he hadn't thought he would ever see again. They were nice boxer shorts too. Broomsticks and snitches. Quiditch. James used to have a couple of pairs of them. The jeans were a bit too big for him. He really had lost a lot a weight. When Sirius was done buttoning up the front he picked up his wand again, "okay Harry you can come in now."

He started cutting the rest of his beard off. It was a while before he heard the door creak open timidly. He could see Harry reflected in the mirror as he walked quietly into the room. "I – I woke up and you weren't there." He started saying, his voice sounding sad. "Haden wasn't there either." He added on. "So I – so then I heard the shower."

Sirius smiled slightly. Harry's stammering was getting better. "I am sorry I didn't wake you up kiddo. It was a bit early." Sirius pulled the last of the hair off of his face and smeared it off onto the sink's edge.

Another face appeared in the bottom of the mirror. Harry was biting his lip again and looking up at Sirius, "Sirius, why aren't you in your – in your cell? Did Haden forget to take you back?"

Sirius sighed. Now came the hard part. He put the wand down on the sink and stared down at Harry, "I am not going back to the cell again Harry. Haden set me free."

The little boy screwed up his face, "Free?" he asked softly. "Like – as if – like you can leave?"

Sirius nodded. A smile building itself on his face. He picked up the shirt on the sink and pulled it over his head, "As in, we can leave now and never come back. Haden believed me. He also believes me to be innocent. Harry," he said pulling the jumper over his head and straitening it out, "We are leaving Azkaban."

A light was glowing in Harry's eyes. His mouth fell open. A smile matching his own stretched across his face. However, just as fast as the smile came onto Harry's face, it faded. Harry went back to biting his lip. "Are you – am I – going back to the Dursleys?" he asked in a dead voice. "Can't I come with you? I don't – I don't want to go back to the Dursleys." He carried on before Sirius could talk. "I don't like it there." Harry's voice cracked and his eyes squinted with memories, "I don't like them. I like you. I want to – live with – I want to come with you. Please." He pleaded looking up into Sirius's eyes. There were tears forming in the emerald orbs. Out of the corner of his eye Sirius could see Harry's fist curling around the sink, "Please," he pleaded again, "please take – take me with you."

Harry paused there. Bracing himself for the answer.

"You are coming with me Harry. Surrey is the last place I thought about going to." Sirius answered softly. He placed one hand on Harry's shoulder and frowned as he felt the tensed up muscles beneath his fingers. "We are going to visit Uncle Moony. Remember I told you about him? We are going to go live with him for a bit. He still thinks I am a murderer but we are going to convince him. Then he is going to let us stay there with him. It's very beautiful were he stays Harry. He stays in a cottage near a village. Open fields and blue skies." Sirius kneeled down pulled Harry away from the sink turning him so that they were facing each other. "Would you like that Harry?"

A tear rolled down his young face and he slowly dragged open his eyes, blinking furiously and biting his lip. He tried opening his mouth to speak but all that came out was a muffled cry. Sirius didn't like the way Harry went about crying. It wasn't healthy. It wasn't right. He didn't know what his godson had lived through at the Dursleys but from what Harry told him it wasn't all fun and games. Harry's broken arm had already told Sirius a lot about the way Vermon treated him, even thought Harry would never admit it. The way Harry spoke also screamed neglect and abuse at Sirius. He couldn't let James's son go back there. He wouldn't.

When Harry had forced himself to calm down he finally looked up through his glistening eyes. "How are we getting to the uncle moony's?" he asked in a strangled voice.

Sirius frowned again. He hadn't really thought about getting over the ocean yet. He couldn't get onto the boat. The boatman would surely notice. However, he thought with a small smile, he could give the vintage silver arrow hanging on Haden's office wall a go. Harry would enjoy that. It would be his first broom ride.

If anything could put a smile on a Potter's face, it was flying.


	8. Chapter 8

**In your deathbed**

Rufus opened his eyes. His office door stood silently in front of him, and the light of the busy headquarters behind it squeezed into the dark room through the spaces between the door frame and the actual timber. Four beams of light flooded towards him dissolving into the darkness before it reached his desk. This light created an array of shapes each painted a different shade of black to appear all around the room. He had never much liked his office, especially when it was dark. There wasn't much personality lining the walls. It didn't have any atmosphere to it. He couldn't understand how this had come to be because he spent most of his time in his office; surely some of his personality had rubbed off on it.

He could hear the sounds from the busy hall beyond the door slowly becoming clearer. The conversations of the many aurors outside were sounding more like the monotonous mumbling he was used to hearing from his office. Every now and then a figure would pass in front of his door and the beams of light would be blocked from entering. Every now and then Rufus would close his eyes for a bit and dose off again, only to wake up a few minutes later to the exact same scene.

He guessed it was early morning. It was winter so it would be completely gloomy outside. Above his head the streets of London would be full of people rushing off in the darkness to buy things for the holidays. They would be wrapped up in their warmest clothes and walking quickly as they rushed from one heated building to the next. The street lights would be on, providing them with some light. The sky would be overcast. The wind would be menacing. He wondered if it were raining up on the surface today.

Nobody had yet bothered to come knocking at the door. All the aurors knew that he often spend his nights in his office. It was common for him to wake up in his chair; his body was used to the funny way of sleeping. Nobody ever troubled him with their problems until he had walked out of his office looking for coffee and breakfast. Nobody disturbed him until after he had found such things. As far as everyone was concerned this was his home. Nobody ever asked him why he was always here. Nobody ever really cared.

To be the Head Auror wasn't the most difficult of jobs. There wasn't really much to do these days. After the war things had calmed down considerably. The only thing he really had to do around here was to read all the reports and sign all the paperwork. Those seemed to be his only responsibilities. He had to make sure everything went smoothly. It wasn't really something he enjoyed. He wasted so many years of his life filling out and filing reports. He seemed to be doing the exact same thing again. He wished things had turned out differently.

He slowly pulled his legs off of his desk where they had been resting the entire night. He wasn't feeling at all too good at the moment. As his legs fell to the floor his body was pulled upright in a sitting position. He had had a nasty meeting with Moody the previous night. After which he had received some terrible news. Haden had been the one to take the boy home. Haden had killed four of the sell swords he hired and only one of the original nine reported back stating that he did not know what happened to the other four. As far as Rufus could tell, they had probably been hunted down by Haden as well. He was shouted at by Fudge later on in the evening, who had heard that Potter had not returned home after school. It appeared that the minister had been doing things behind his back again. Rufus didn't like it when that man did something he wasn't aware of.

Fudge was and idiot; but he was an idiot with power.

Fudge didn't really know what to do with all the command his title allowed him. So Fudge chose to waste some of his best aurors to snoop around Surrey waiting for Potter to return home. If any of those men had found the squad of mercenaries he had sent to capture Potter there would have been some serious trouble. Luckily the minister didn't have the foresight to send those aurors through the village, instead he just stationing them in front of the boy's house.

This wouldn't be easy to cover up. Such a major mess could not be kept quiet. Eight dead bodies lying scattered around Surrey was not something he could hush up. They would have already been discovered. The muggle news would defiantly have something to say about this. Rufus would have to pin the blame on someone before the muggle Police had enough time to investigate the matter thoroughly. He would have to invent another serial killer to keep them occupied for the mean while. The minister would of course also hear about the entire affair now. He would of course feel the need to do something about it. He would organize his own investigation and get the entire department on the case. Eight murders on the same night the boy who lived went missing and in the same village that the boy who lived went missing in, would definitely spark off something in the man's brain.

Fudge would then go off and get the media involved. Everything that Rufus had tried to cover up the past month would probably get uncovered. He would probably lose his job and get the blame for everything. The country would probably demand Fudge's resignation and the entire Department would be pulled apart. There would be chaos. Law and order would be forgotten. People would revolt against the Ministry. The press would be having the time of their lives and everything he had been working towards his entire life would diminish.

He had to find out what happened to the boy and were he was at the moment. Rufus's best guest was that Haden had taken Potter back to Azkaban and if that was true than he would have to see if he could stop by the prison later and take care of both Potter and Black. He would need to get Potter home before Fudge's panic became self destructive and do away with Black now while the minister was paranoid and anxious.

Today would be a very long day.

He pulled on the door and watched as a tide of bright light stormed into his office. He blinked furiously and stepped into the busy ocean that was Auror headquarters. A hand seized him roughly and Rufus shot his head upwards to stare into the lifeless eyes of the warden of Azkaban. "You nearly walked through me old friend." He said softly.

Rufus felt a wave of anger serge through him, causing his muscles to tighten up and his teeth to clench down tightly on one another. He didn't have time for this right now. He didn't want to speak to this man. He wished Haden would just leave him alone for once. "What are you doing here?" Rufus asked angrily shrugging free of his grasp.

Haden shook his head, his eyes darting from one side to the other doing a quick sweep of the surrounding onlookers, "Can't a man visit an old friend every once in a while? Can't a man have a nice chat with an old friend now and again?" he was drunk. Rufus could smell it.

It was odd seeing the man back at the ministry. It felt right. Haden belonged in headquarters. He blended in almost effortlessly. He had never really had problems with fitting in anywhere when he was younger. Haden was cursed with a normal face; an average sized nose, an average sized chin, unremarkable eyes and straight simple dark brown hair. The only thing that looked slightly impressive regarding his appearance were the few battle scares visible on his arms and neck. He dressed like a common muggle; always a pair of jeans and a faded T-shirt. While everyone around him could clearly be remembered by some feature or flaw visible either in their appearance or their behavior; Haden was the type of face you could easily forget once you met him. He was such a normal typical guy. When you got to know him, you realized that below the normal face lay a fierce intelligence and a cruel heart.

Moody had always commented that was one of the reasons why he was such a successful auror. He didn't seem like an auror at all. He never seemed like much of a threat. Rufus knew better however, Haden was the biggest threat to the ministry at the moment. Rufus turned around and headed back into his office. He had really looked forwards to some breakfast but Haden obviously was very set on talking things out at the moment.

His office was still dark and Rufus lazily flicked his wand in the direction of the enchanted windows allowing the shutters to fly up and the dim morning light to flood into the room. He sighed as he sat down in his chair once again and fixed his eyes upon Haden's figure as the man closed the door carefully behind him and seated himself in the chair opposite. "What do you want with me Haden?" Rufus asked straight out.

Haden smiled bitterly, "I would like to talk to you about last nights activities Rufus. I must express my disappointment. If you had done your job properly you would have sent more men."

Rufus snorted, "I am afraid that I do not know what you are talking about." Rufus said clearly. Fudge would have probably tapped his office by now and the idiot would probably be listening in on the conversation like had listened in on his conversation with Mad-eye. Fudge could be very irritating when he wanted to be. It seemed that the ministry was very curious about all the visitors Rufus had been receiving in his office these past few days.

Haden's frown only lasted a few seconds before he finally caught on. With a cautious scan of the surrounding walls he continued, "Harry Potter is missing. Did you hear about it?" Haden's voice had changed it tone severely. "I came here this morning because I have some information for you regarding that disappearance."

"You, are going to supply me, with some information regarding Potter's disappearance?" Rufus repeated slowly. This wasn't like Haden at all. Something was up. Haden was lying.

He nodded slowly and got a nasty little smirk on his face and devilish glint in his dark eyes, "You see, this morning while I was doing a routine check on the inmates, I came across an empty cell. The door had been forced open and it appeared that someone has escaped." Haden said clearly and calmly.

Rufus fell back in his seat. Sirius Black took Potter and ran for it while Haden was probably passed out on his desk. The man had probably been drinking last night, like he did on every other night and the little brat had probably sneaked out of Haden's office and went to go find his godfather. It was a catastrophe. "And who, pray tell, was this prisoner?" Rufus asked after a few deep breaths. He could imagine hearing the sound of the minister's feet already rushing towards them from his office upstairs. This was a night mare.

"Why, it was that Sirius Black." Haden exclaimed allowing the smile to spread and take up all the room on his face. Haden looked slowly over to the door; it appeared that he also expected the ministry to run into the room any second. Of course this would change everything. The minister would demand that every auror be on the hunt for Black; which would require Rufus to give every auror an explanation of what had been happening the past month and that would easily lead to a full investigation into the case. He knew that the eight murders in Surrey could easily be linked to him once the proper people had the chance to research the matter.

When Rufus looked over at Haden's face again, he saw that this was not the only thing Haden had planned out. Something else was up. Something else was happening and Rufus didn't know what it was. He hated not knowing things. Did this really actually even happen? If it didn't; then what could Haden stand to gain? If the story was actually true and Potter did actually free his godfather while Haden was passed out; then why would Haden tell him that in the first place? Haden would get fired by the ministry from his job as Warden. Rufus knew that Haden loved his job as Warden.

Rufus shook his head; he was jumping ahead of himself. Haden hadn't said anything regarding Potter yet. He hadn't said how anything happened. "Haden, was the Potter boy with you last night?" Rufus whispered urgently.

The warden slowly nodded, "I couldn't let you kill him just yet, now could I? I think the three of us should have a nice chat about the Potter boy later today. I hope you don't mind but I invited Mad-eye to your place. For real this time. It wasn't like last time at the pub. I really think the three of us should talk about this. Mad-eye said he should be around at about five-ish. You have a problem with that."

Rufus shook his head. He didn't have time to argue with this now. He would think about this little get together later. He needed to act very quickly if he was going to catch Black. He had to get men over to Azkaban before the minister barged in. It would take hours to calm Fudge down and that was time he couldn't waste.

* * *

"-are we going to do? What if Black already killed the boy! We can't let that happen! You know how important Harry is. The press will have a field day! Can you just imagine the headlines? Why did this happen? How could Black possibly have escaped what are you doing about it? And how do I know that you are doing something? You need to put your best men on this thing. You need to find Black! You need to find the boy! You need to fix all of this! I still don't understand how Black got out of his cell and how he got Potter and how they got away! Why are the two of you just sitting here? Shouldn't you be –"

Haden shot him an amused glance, his eyes dancing with laughter and his lips itching for the chance to relax into a smile. He was enjoying all of the minister's ranting. He was enjoying seeing Rufus in the position he was currently in. He was having the time of his life. Rufus on the other hand had never felt so nervous. He had sent a couple of men to check out Azkaban and investigate the scene. He had organized the rest of the aurors into teams that would search the places where Black was most likely to take Potter. He was waiting for a report back. For news of a sighting or signal that Black was captured. It had been an hour and he still hadn't heard back from anyone.

"I assure you minister," Haden said suddenly in an overpowering voice that caused the idiot fudge to stop babbling. "that Rufus is doing everything in his power to catch Black."

Fudge looked doubtful and rather worried. "Do you think." he started slowly, "Do you think that Black escaped to finish the job he started? Do you think he is out to get me killed? Do you think I am in any danger? Because if I am then I would like a few aurors to be stationed at my house, just incase…" Fudge's hands were devouring his bowler hat and the little man was leaning against the desk hyperventilating.

Rufus just continued staring at the man, feeling disgust rise up in his throat. The boy who lived was possibly dead, the wizarding world was a photograph away of finding out that Black had escaped, all the unlawful trials at the conclusion of You-know-who's fall could be made public any moment and all Fudge could think about was his own safety? He didn't need to look over at Haden to know that the man was once again suppressing laughter. This is exactly what Haden had been preaching about the ministry for years now. There was no sense of duty, there was no loyalty, there was no law and there was no real need to try and enforce it. Haden always said the ministry was a circus run by a cowardly idiot. Here he was dying to say 'I told you so'.

"Minister, I do not think Black is out to kill you, I believe Potter is the reason Black had broken out, though I do not know what he plans to do with the boy." Rufus said calmly, "as for the question of 'how did this happen' I think there is some information I need to share with you. You see, Harry Potter was being escorted home by the Warden yesterday afternoon when they were attacked. Haden killed the men and transported Potter back to Azkaban where he suspected it was the safest. Potter stayed the night in the Warden's office and I believe that after the warden, dosed off, Potter snuck out of the office and went to visit his godfather. Black, I believe then somehow managed to talk the boy into freeing him." Rufus finished quickly, and then looked over to Haden wondering if any of what he had just said was true. It was true that Haden had a drinking problem and would most probably have been drunk but it wasn't very likely that the man would have fallen asleep when there was someone he didn't know and didn't like in the room with him. It wasn't like the warden.

"Is this true?" Fudge asked looking over at the Warden.

Haden nodded sharply and shot Rufus a look which couldn't be deciphered, "I am afraid minister that it is." He said softly, "you would imagine the shock I received when I woke to find the little boy missing."

Something was up. This wasn't right. Haden knew something.

There was a sharp knock at the door followed by the entrance of Richard Law, the auror he had put in charge of the investigation at Azkaban, "Sir." He said sharply nodding at Fudge and then at Haden. Richard's eyes turned towards Rufus, "His cell lock was blown off clean with a blasting curse. He had a wand with him. Magical residue on the melted metal indicates that it happened early this morning. Black couldn't have gotten too far."

Rufus leaned back in his chair his eyes fixed on Haden who was still staring at him with an unreadable expression, "Have you checked the Warden's office?" Rufus asked softly.

Law shook his head, "Why would Black linger?"

"Check the entire building this time Law and don't come back until you have walked every inch of that hell rock yourself." Rufus ordered quietly. He was met by the answering sound of the door slamming shut. Last night Rufus had received notification that a Haden had made an illegal portkey. This was his transport back to Azkaban after he had killed the mercenaries. Haden wouldn't leave the boy alone in his office, he was much to paranoid to do such a thing. So how did the other four get murdered and why were their bodies a mile or two away from the ones Haden had killed in the park. Something wasn't right. He was missing something.

Haden stood up, "Minister, like I said before, Rufus knows how to handle something like this. You should relax. How about a whiskey?" he started walking over to Rufus's liquor cabinet.

"No." Rufus said softly causing Haden to pause, "It's much too early to start drinking don't you think?" Alcohol was the thing that created this mess in the first place. "The minister had other things to worry about at the moment and besides I do not want you to drink a hole into my cabinet. If you must have a drink Haden, why don't you leave and go buy your own."

Haden's hand hesitated for a moment and his iris froze over with anger, "Are you really going to be that way Rufus?" he asked softly, "After all we have been through. Are you really going to treat me this way? It's just a glass of Whiskey, you have enough Whiskey here to last me a month. That is saying something. Surely you will not miss a glass or two?"

"Get out." Rufus said quietly. The man had caused him enough trouble. He didn't really want to have this argument at the moment.

Haden smirked sadly, "Say hello to mad-eye when you see him yeah?" he turned around and headed for the door following the same route that Richard had walked a few moments ago.

Rufus was left with Fudge who was still fidgeting nervously with his hat. "Do you think we will find him?" He asked Rufus again.

Rufus shrugged, he really didn't care at the moment. Haden was the only thing he was worrying about. If you gave Haden enough reason to do something, there was nothing that could stop him from doing it. What was it that Haden was trying to do? What was it that Haden was trying to prove? What had Haden done?

* * *

He had been right. It was raining on the surface.

Rufus immerged from an alley way and fell into the stream of people that were walking on the sidewalk. This would be the first time he was out of his office today. He had been waiting for any news about a sighting or a capture but so far had received nothing that sounded hopeful. The auror had organized a map of Britain that was divided into grids. Each team had to search a grid every two hours and monitor all traffic that went into or left that grid. They didn't know how Black would be traveling. The man did have a wand with him but the chances were he wouldn't use it too much because he would be afraid of drawing too much attention to himself.

He had also gotten a group together that would search specific locations; all of the Black family estates, all of Black's old hang outs and all his friends houses. Black had only been out for about 12 hours now and there was still hope of finding him before it reached the day mark. Rufus had somehow managed to calm the minister down and had agreed to give the man extra security even though Rufus knew that it was a waste of man power.

He turned the street corner and walked towards the apartment building doors that led up to his flat on the second floor. He needed to come home. He needed to get some sleep. He needed to think about everything that happened. And he had that stupid meeting with Haden and Moody. Something was still not right. Something still didn't make sense. He cursed mentally as he walked up the stairway. Haden had been up to something. Rufus knew when the man was up to something. He was going to corner Haden about it this time. Didn't Haden know that he was the one in charge now? Rufus had lived with Haden at some stage and he knew what it felt like when Haden had weaved you into one of his plans

It made you feel stupid and dirty. It made you feel used. Haden was manipulating you to fit his plans. Everything you did or said was something he had predicted. You could never figure out what he had planned, you could never figure out what your part in that plan was and it made you feel unsure. Rufus hated feeling unsure. He hated not knowing when something was going on around him. He hated it when he wasn't in control of the events that kept unfolding. He hated it when Haden was provoked into hatching his brilliant plans.

Rufus reached his door and lazily swung it open. He didn't really like his apartment that much either. It reminded him too much of his office. It was past five in the afternoon and it was almost completely dark inside. There was no personality to the place. There was a table and some chairs, a sofa and a bed. The kitchen counter was clean and everything was standing in its place. It felt like no-one had ever lived in the apartment. It was something about Rufus's homes that he never could understand. When you went into someone else's house, it usually told you a lot about what that person was like. It was either neat or messy, cluttered or empty, bright or dull. His home just seemed uninhabited.

He walked over to the counter and reached for the light switch. Once he had flicked it up and heard the sound of the light coming on above his head he turned automatically to hear Mad-eye speaking from the table, "I have been wondering when you would pitch up." Mad-eye growled, "You are late."

Rufus shrugged, "I had a meeting, a few actually, I was busy. I thought you would have forgotten about our little get together. Is Haden here yet?" He looked around the apartment and frowned when he didn't see the man.

Moody shook his head, "I haven't seen or heard of him yet."

Rufus opened up the cupboard door looking for something to eat. "He stopped by earlier this morning. I figured he would already be here."

Rufus looked over towards the table at the sound of Moody's wooden leg scratching across the wooden floor, "Haden was in the ministry?" he asked in alarm.

"Yes, he came to see me this morning," Rufus answered.

Moody's face clouded up, "did you escort him out?" he asked slowly.

"No, I told him to fuck off. He was trying to get into m-" Rufus stopped, his hand slipped off of the cupboard door and he felt his stomach clench painfully. He had let Haden leave his office unaccompanied. He had let Haden wander off into the ministry building unsupervised. This couldn't turn out good.

* * *

Millions of rays of light pushed past his shoulder and sprinting into the dark room. Each beam a different shade of crimson, ember or orange. The light rays kept running their straight course across the room until they hit the walls on the other side and were caught beneath the varnish of the wooden floors as the burning image of the fire next to him. The room seemed cheerful and busy. The dusty books and trinkets on the many bookshelves lining his walls were gleaming noisily in the brilliant fire light. It looked homely.

With slight amusement, Remus chanced a glance at Padfoot. The man lay sprawled out on his battered old sofa, his long dark hair falling over his face, creating a vile of shiny silk threads that hid his whispering blue eyes from betraying his own amusement. The man's body portrayed exhaustion. His limbs were sculpted in uncomfortable positions. His head was tilted at an odd angle to accommodate the lumpy sofa beneath it. His body was thin and frail. Worn down to the bone in last the seven years and not knowing what to do with itself now that is was able to recover. The only thing that remained alive in him, were those scared blue eyes. Burning deeply with the forgotten memories of his past self and faint traces of the humor that shadowed him when he was younger.

Remus felt his insides clench with guilt and subconsciously he licked at the torn corner of his mouth, where his bleeding lip served as a painful reminded to what happened just hours ago. The little boy sitting in his lap turned the page and the usual gasp escaped his young mouth. Harry turned his head to look up at him. Lily's eyes blazing with awe, deep set in James's 'innocent' face turned his head to look up at him. The same innocent face that Prongs always used to pull when ever a teacher cornered him or his father gave him a calculating look.

The kid was adorable. Remus couldn't help but reach up and pull his hand through the thick black mess that was James's hair through and through. "What is it this time Harry?" he asked the little boy, feeling laughter bubbling in his heart at the makings of James's old 'annoyed' look that blossomed onto Harry's face whenever Remus messed up his hair. He supposed that the sight of a Potter messing up his hair was something he remembered seeing so often and was so used to that being in the presence of a Potter who didn't ruffle his hair bothered him.

Harry bit his lip and turned slightly on Remus' knee bringing the album with him. His little fingers pointed to the first picture on the dusty page. A photo of James and Lily dancing at their wedding. He looked from the picture back up into Remus's eyes, "Mum and Dad are dancing." He said in an excited voice. "Look. Mum is wearing a white dress, and Dad is twirling her all around. Mum is really pretty huh? I like her red hair." His eyes fell back on the photo and slowly with his tiny thumb he petted the moving red locks tenderly as if he could actually feel them beneath his fingers. The dancing figure of James and Lily stopped twirling and with a joyous smile they looked up at Harry and waved.

There was something about the boy that Remus liked a lot. It was that sense of familiarity that surrounded Harry. Everything Remus saw him do or say reminded him of Lily and James. He could see them both living strongly in the little boys face. There was something about Harry that made Remus feel a deep respect and love. In his lap sat the boy that was as dear as a son to him. Harry was something to protect. Harry was something to love. Harry was something that belonged to him. His cub.

"Uncle Moony," he said with his young voice, "look at this one. You are in this one with Sirius."

Remus shifted his eyes away from Harry's head and concentrated on the boy's fingers that were pointing the next photo; another wedding shot that James couldn't resist taking. Remus wasn't really entertained by the photos anymore. He had never gone too long without taking out the heap of albums he kept hidden in the hallway closet and sobbing all over them after a bottle or two of wine. He looked over at Sirius again, seeing in the dark shadows of his blue eyes the dancing pain that he himself had been dealing with these past years. The two of them needed to talk.

Little Harry yawned again as he slowly turned his head to the other page. Remus could tell that taking out the albums had been a mistake. Harry wouldn't leave them alone until his fingers had memorized the smooth feel of every single photo. Remus reached his hand towards the leather binding and slowly pulled the book close until Harry's hands remained trapped in them. The boy's body became frigid and the breath he had inhaled wasn't let go of as it should have. Slowly, hesitantly Harry turned his face towards Remus, his lip clutched tightly between his teeth. There were many emotions flapping about in his green eyes. The most prominent was fear, followed by confusion, followed by hurt.

Carefully Remus let his hand slide to Harry's wrist and he slowly pulled the boy's hands out of the album, "Harry, I promise you can look at them all some other time. For now, I think it is time we put you to bed. It is very late. You are very tired." He needed to talk to Sirius.

Harry's lip rolled back and forth between his teeth. It looked for a moment as if he were going to disagree. Instead he nodded and slowly slid off of Remus's lap. Cooperation was the last thing that Remus would have expected from James's son. It was the last thing he would have expected from an eight year old. It was suspicious.

As he was pushing himself to his feet he looked towards Sirius whose sunken face followed the fidgeting figure of his godson as he slowly backed away. "I think Moony is right Harry." His voice spoke suddenly. The little boy froze on the spot. "I think we need to give you a bath and send you off to bed. It has been a very long day." Sirius's arms suddenly found holding in the sofa and with energy Remus wouldn't have guessed that his body possessed, Sirius pushed himself upright.

Remus took the opportunity to walk forwards and grab hold of the boys shoulder. "We will draw you a nice bath and then I will make us all some hot chocolate yeah."

Harry responded to that, his face looked up and unfroze itself, "Hot - hot chocolate?" he asked softly.

Remus nodded slowly, "With the marshmallows floating ontop if you would like."

Sirius drew up behind Harry and put his hand on the unoccupied shoulder, "Remus is really good at making hot chocolate Harry. He used to make hot chocolate for your mum and dad all the time."

They slowly began walking the little boy towards the bathroom door. Expectantly Harry's head bobbed upwards to look at Remus, "Is - is this. Is that true?" he asked in an awed voice. "Mum and dad liked hot chocolate?"

Sirius was pushing open the bathroom door and switching on the light. His hand left Harry and he walked over to the bath tub. Remus didn't know why but apparently Sirius was hell bent on getting Harry to take a bath. If the boy was obviously uncomfortable with it than it wouldn't be like Sirius to insist. Sirius wanted Harry to take a bath badly. It wasn't as if Harry was dirty. It wasn't as if Harry smelled bad.

When the sound of water hitting the porcelain surface reached Harry's ears the boy's body began to strain against Remus's hold on him. Something came into Harry's eyes. Something that wasn't at all very healthy. Remus slowly closed the door behind him with his free hand, "Yes Harry, it was true. Your mum was addicted to chocolate." He said pushing Harry backwards; closer towards where Sirius was kneeling on the cracked tiles watching them.

Did Harry have a fear of water? Did he perhaps have a fear of them? He himself would be hard pressed to trust anyone he didn't know. If he were in Harry's shoes he wouldn't trust two fully grown men he had only just met when they were alone in a cottage far away from anywhere. But, that wasn't an option. Harry couldn't be that jaded.

Harry's legs were pressing into the bathtub, his body still curled up as if he were bracing himself for some kind of attack. The sound of Sirius turning open the other tap screeched loudly in Remus's ears. He felt Harry flinching beneath his hand at the sound as well. He could feel the boy's heart beating faster and felt as he tried pulling himself free with all his might. Remus didn't let go. He slowly knelt down so that his eyes were level with Harry's. "Let me help you undress Harry." He said softly as he lessened the hold on Harry's shoulder and took hold instead of the boy's shirt. He pulled the fabric upwards causing Harry's head to be lost momentarily inside it. As he continued pulling the arms were forced up and the big T-shirt came loose from around his body.

His eyes traced their familiar pathway back to Sirius's eyes and he saw the man give him a sharp dangerous look against saying anything. Sirius stopped both taps and reached his hand into the water feeling the temperature. "Okay Harry, come on, let us help you get in. We will have you clean real quick."

Harry was no longer held there by Remus's hand. He didn't move at all, his breathing was rapid and shallow. Remus bit his tongue and reached down to slip Harry's shoes and socks off. This was the son of James Potter. This was the little boy he who had vomited on his shoulder just a few years ago. This was the little boy who once set the dining room table on fire when he accidentally got hold of Lily's wand. Remus pulled off the worn out socks and gently reached for the old pair of jeans Harry was wearing.

Sirius moved quickly again with that strength his frail body could not possibly possess. He picked the boy up by the arms and lifted Harry over the edge of the bath tub and put him into the water. Remus flinched away when he saw the bloody marks on Harry's back.

Harry pulled his knees up and hugged them furiously flinching as Sirius cupped some water in his hand and unloaded it at the base of Harry's neck so that it ran down. Padfoot then tried to wash some of the dried blood with his wet hand but Harry shrunk away.

Remus was on his feet again walking over to shower and taking hold of the sponge that hung just inside the door. That was Harry James Potter. The little boy who once fell asleep on his chest while he was baby sitting one night and continued to drool all over him until his mother came home and took the boy upstairs to his crib.

He handed the sponge to Sirius who was consumed by the deep frown and all the thoughts that came with it. Sirius immediately let it fall into the water. He pulled it back out and once again he positioned it at the base of Harry's neck. He then slowly let his hand guide it down the spine and he began gently washing away the dried blood from the belt imprints on Harry's back.

Harry didn't move, he just sat there hugging his knees tightly and staring at the tap with fierce concentration.

Remus left the room. The house had become quiet again. He could hear the sounds of the sponge digging into the water and breaking the surface clearly all the way to the kitchen. With his wand he absently lit the stove and pulled the kettle closer.

He now wished he hadn't closed the album either.

* * *

Remus was busy pulling a fresh pillow case over the pillow when Sirius entered the room holding in front of him a very wet Harry wrapped up tightly in a towel. The boy was staring at the floor and biting his lip, his hands curled firmly into the towel. "I got some of my old clothes that you can wear tonight Harry." He spoke quietly to the boy not expecting to get any reaction out of him. He pointed over towards the dresser were he had taken out an old pair of shorts and an equally old T-shirt. Sirius nodded and steered Harry towards the dresser.

Remus put the pillow back on the bed and reached down to collect the dirty bed sheets at his feet. He walked out of the room quickly not wanting to see those horrible scars again. He was back in the kitchen were he dumped the bedding into the corner and walked back to the cups of hot chocolate that had been cooling down for a while.

Upon entering the bedroom again he was met with the sight of Sirius carefully pulling the covers back and holding them open for Harry to scramble into. He padded over while balancing the three cups in his hand, "I made you that hot chocolate I promised Harry." Remus said as he approached the bed. Harry slowly pulled himself up onto the bed and Sirius let the covers fall around him.

Padfoot then turned towards him with a grim face and took the middle cup that was held there by the other two. He slowly let it float towards Harry's out stretched hands. The little boy was leaning against the head board, his hair was wet and sticking to his face and his expression was solemn. Sirius reached for his own and slowly sat down on the side of the bed. "You see Harry, just like we said. We did just like we said we would." He muttered before he drank from the cup.

Remus padded around the bed towards the other side. His instincts told him that this was something that was between Harry and Sirius but his heart told him that he wanted to be part of it as well. Remus slid across the bed until he was sitting right next to Harry his back also pressing against the head board. "It's good hot chocolate, huh?" he tried saying.

Harry was still staring at the cup at the time. He nodded before talking an innocent sip. "Thank you." He muttered towards Remus. Harry tilted the mug backwards and drank deeply. He reemerged from the cup wiping his mouth on the sleeve of the shirt he was wearing. The boy then placed the half empty cup carefully on the side table atop a piled of books.

Remus shifted a bit allowing the boy to smoothly slide down into a lying position.

Once again Sirius shared a look with him. They wouldn't talk about it tonight. Harry didn't have it in him to talk about it tonight. They would talk about it some other night. For now, it would be kindest to let the little guy sleep.

Absently Remus's hand reached down towards Harry's head again as Sirius clicked of the lamp light and curled up next to Harry as best he could in the little space there was between the edge of the bed and Harry. Remus slowly messed up the boy's wet hair; gently brushing circles into his head. Harry was nearly asleep, his green eyes gleaming in the darkness. Soon afterwards Harry's breathing became slower and his eyes fell closed. It was as if Harry's body was trying to escape the conversation it knew would have to follow.

Which was funny, because that knowledge was the exact thing that kept both him and Sirius awake the entire night.


	9. Chapter 9

**To care**

They rushed both bodies towards the nearest set of desk and Rufus cleared the surface with his hand causing an assortment of books and parchment to crash towards the floor. He helped Richard heave the boy onto the desk and pinned the kids struggling shoulders down so that he wouldn't cause himself more harm by moving around too violently. The young auror's mouth opened and the convulsing vibrations from his torso caused Rufus to turn the boy's face to the side so that the blood rising up in his throat would stop choking him.

A mass of thick liquid came oozing out of the man's mouth and the auror gasped as his lungs were finally able to take in air again. Richard was busying himself with cutting the boy's robes off so that they could get to the actual wound. On the table next to them another pair of aurors had positioned the second kid. Rufus knew he wasn't going to make it. He had seen enough of this sort of thing to know when it was hopeless. They shouldn't even be bothering trying to stop the other boy's bleeding, too much of his blood was already on the floor.

He turned his attention back towards Richard who was had cut through the uniform and was busy tearing through the torn, blood soaked shirt. "His name is Brendan Heywood. He joined our ranks last year sometime." Richard muttered while he prodded the flesh wound with his wand. He looked back at Rufus, "Scrimgeour, if this kid dies we will never know what happened."

Rufus nodded impatiently, he knew that; which was why this kid wasn't going anywhere until he had an explanation of what happened. Did they finally track down Black? Did Black perhaps duel them? Is that why they were both so seriously injured when they limped into the building? Would he be able to give an accurate location of where they last saw Black? How long ago where they attacked? He needed to act immediately on this information.

Rufus looked around the hallway, a few aurors who had stayed on well after hours were beginning to notice the noise. In the cubicle not too far away he saw the balding head of Kingsley Shacklebolt poke hesitantly over the wall. "Kingsley, get me something to relieve pain. There is a potions store in Shid's office." Rufus barked at the man. With a confusing frown on Shacklebolts face he left with a swift nod he fled his cubicle.

Rufus turned back to look at the progress Richard was making, the tear in Heywood's chest was slowly growing close underneath Richard's wand tip. Richard was always very good at healing life threatening injuries. He was dead useful to have lying around. "I suppose he is going to make it after all then?" Rufus asked innocently. His arms were getting tired from restraining the jerking figure.

"He will need to be transferred to St. Mungoes. I fixed him up so that he wouldn't bleed to death but there is a lot of tissue damage that will need to be repaired by professionals. We should give him some time before questioning. He is already in shock as it is." Richard withdrew his wand point from the boy's body and caught Rufus's gaze, "You aren't seriously going to question him about this are you?"

Rufus shrugged, "I have a job to do. We cannot let this wait till morning." He turned his head over his shoulder to see a few heads peaking out from the different cubicles, each with a puzzled frown and a keen eye. Kingsley was hurrying back out of Shid's office clasping at least three different bottles and trying to remember which potion was supposed to do what. "Be a dear Richard, and help me sit the boy up will you?"

Law said nothing; Rufus knew that he didn't approve of the idea of heavily medicating the boy purely for the purpose of getting a logical answer out his mouth. Rufus supposed that the consequences wouldn't be that good. Afterwards, when Richard shipped the boy off to St. Mungoes, the healers would have to wait for the potion's effects to ware off before they could continue healing him.

They slowly lifted Heywood's body into a sitting position, causing him to jerk violently and scream his silent anguish.

"You can use this one, I think." Kingsley said as he approached Rufus's side. Shacklebolt pulled the cork off of the tube and with a strong hand grasped hold of Heywood's jaw. The boy's entire head stopped moving and the force which Kingsley exerted onto the man's face with his hand caused Heywood's jaw to fall open. Kingsley slowly let the tube tip into the mouth and waited for all the liquid to run into it before he rearranged his hand on the man's face in order to push it close.

Heywood swallowed reluctantly and immediately the potion kicked in. Rufus nodded in approval over to Kingsley who had managed to successfully not kill his only source of information. "Thank you Shacklebolt, now if you would round up everyone who is still here for a meeting that will start in five minutes, I would be much obliged."

Dismissed.

The convulsing auror had stopped jerking painfully and his body was beginning to slump forwards as all the pain left was numbed by the potion. Next to him Richard removed the silencing charm that was originally put onto the man to stop his hysterical screaming. "Heywood?" Richard asked firmly.

The man's eyes flicked up, "What happened to Walter?" he said instantly.

Rufus took up the position Kingsley's hand had abandoned to keep the boy from turning his head and seeing his dying friend and the two aurors, who were trying to resuscitate him minutes ago, walking off to the meeting Rufus had just called.

"Son, you need to tell me what happened." Richard said gently.

The boy frowned, his eyes darted over to Richard, "Sir, do you remember that old broom you spotted dumped in those bushes on the shore near Azkaban?"

Richard nodded, his intelegent eyes flickering with understanding, "You and Walter were the ones I ordered to follow the trail?"

Rufus could tell that the drug would soon take its full effect. They had to get it all out of him before he went into a heavy drug-trance or a coma or whatever. "Son, did Black do this to you?" he cut in.

Heywood shook his head, then nodded his head, "We found him, him and the boy, out in the country. Black found us out and we were forced to attack."

"Where was this?" Rufus asked urgently.

"I tried to bind the boy up, but he kept resisting, I think I hurt the little guy quite a bit. Then Potter did some weird accidental magic and the bindings caught fire. Black was fighting Walter. I got hit with something and then, this." He continued, ignoring Rufus's question. "Is Walter okay?" he asked again trying to look over to his friend.

"Where was this place?" Rufus asked again, his hand squeezing around the man's jaw.

"I really need to know if he is okay." Heywood whispered.

"Dammit! Just tell me where the fuck you tracked Black to!" Rufus shouted. His tone got the boy's attention.

"It was in a village, Toggeleg."

Bingo.

Rufus was halfway towards the conference room. His steps were quick. His hand was still the perfect mold of the boy's face. He would have to act quickly. He would have to send out a team. He would have to find the village's location on a map. He had to think about this. Why would Black have kept Potter alive this long? And why would Black have gone out into the country? It didn't feel right. What could he possibly want in a village called Toggeleg? Who could Black have known that lived in that village? It wasn't as if Black would run towards his family. Most of his old death eater friends were in Azkaban and the ones who weren't would certainly not endanger themselves by allowing him to hide out at their homes. So it was another type of friend he ran to for shelter. Someone who was perhaps not a death eater? Someone who would be dark enough to help him out anyway.

Someone like that werewolf he and Potter always used to hang out with.

Yeah, that would fit nicely. If Rufus remembered correctly Potter, Black, Pettigrew and the wolf were good friends once. Rufus was half tempted to turn around and head down to werewolf registration and find out if his theory was true. However, that would waste time. Time he didn't have.

He walked into the open double doors of the conference room. A group of about nine aurors looked up at him with curious expression. He had hoped that more would have stayed after hours but it was nearly midnight after all.

"Boy's we have a location."

* * *

They apparated to the edge of the village were an old tar road led away from the town to the farmlands that lay between this village and the next. Rufus signaled the aurors behind him to follow quietly and in the semi darkness they jumped the wooden fence, leaving the quiet road for the tall wet grass of the fields that separated them from the werewolf's residence. The wind was picking up and it ran reckless paths through the long grasses, dodging the trees and stone walls that blocked its route.

Above him the moon shone with half of its intensity, still letting enough light fall onto the surroundings so that they could see properly. Every now and then a threatening black cloud would float across the moon's milky face and leave quickly, giving Rufus an indication of just how strong the wind above them was blowing. It was very chilly. His feet were numb in his boots. Automatically he vaulted across the low stone wall into the adjacent field, hearing the sound of feet hitting the ground in rapid succession behind him as he moved forwards at a brisk pace.

The land bent upwards towards the crest of a steep hill upon which a naked tree stood shivering in the disagreeing wind. Behind which the residence of Remus J. Lupin was supposed to be situated. He climbed over another wall and continues marching upwards, his feet encouraged onwards by the tall wet grass, which was whipping at his shins. As the reached the tree, Rufus saw the little house that stood a few hundred meters away. The lights were on and flickering in the wind.

He was about to point the others towards it when several things happened very quickly. A few stunners streaked their way past his shoulders, the wind blurring their edges so that they resembled flying crows. He heard the muffled sounds of the Auror's behind him falling to the rocky ground and turned back just in time to notice the stunner gliding its way towards him. Rufus dodged it, and took out his wand while he squinted in the darkness for the source of the attack.

A slow clapping caused his heart to freeze. It was coming from his right, "Well done, well done. You still seem to be the best dodger amongst the group, hey Rufus old friend?" It was Haden, "but, you should know by now that my stunners are charmed to hit the target, no matter how many times they are dodged."

Rufus only had the time to curse mentally before he felt a force hit him squarely in the back, knocking him forwards onto his knees. He tried taking a deep breath, but found that his lungs were struggling to cooperate. The wind had been knocked out of him. Rufus scrambled around on the grass until his body relaxed enough to allow a steady flow of air back into his lungs. All he could hear was his shallow breathing, and all he could see was the dark grass blades flashing their mocking smiles at him in the moonlight.

A set of hands pulled his head up, their fingers were twisted into his hair, and a cold voice whispered into his ear, "I have a proposal to make you. I hope this time you will not get upset and runaway."

Haden's eyes were gleaming with pleasure. It was a gleam that Rufus knew well. This was the look of triumph you found in the man's face after one of his plans had been played out to the smallest of detail. The lengthy shadows wrapped themselves around his face and twisted the shape to bring about a look of insanity. In Haden's hand however, there was no weapon to accompany the madness growing in his smile, instead it was a brown folder; the corners of the pages inside of it were flapping madly in the wind as they tried to break free of the paper clip that held them all in place.

Rufus choked on another mouth full of air, "Haden, what is this?" he asked meekly, "Sirius Black is in that house. Why aren't you recapturing him?"

The madness left Haden's face and it froze over into something that once again resembled sadness. The man's eyes were digging into his trying to find some understanding, "I am Warden of Azkaban Rufus. That is what it says on my paycheck," the wind wallowed around there heads, "But I am telling you now that I am nothing more but a prisoner myself." He looked over towards the cottage and chewed on the inside of his cheek. "Sirius Black," he said after a while, "however, is not a prisoner. He was never proven guilty Rufus. By law, he is breaking no laws. This," he said turning his head back and lifting up the file, "is a file I found in that hidden room you people lock up your lies in. I made a few copies of it, and if you do not let Black go, I can promise you that it will find its way to a newspaper or to the Wizengamont."

Rufus flinched, and pleaded hastily into his old friends face, "I need to capture him. He took the Potter boy. Can you imagine how the wizarding world would react to that information alone? I need to capture him. I need to kill hi-"

"No." Haden interrupted in a throatily, "You need to let go of it Rufus. You already lost. You already lost. You need to let go of it all now. You need to let go of the war. You need to let go of your lust for revenge. We both know this has nothing to do with Magical Britain or its reaction to this information. This is your heart hunting down the things that it thinks would bring you peace." The hand around his hair loosened its hold, "Let it go Rufus. Just let go."

Something hard hit him over the head.

The world of semi-darkness faded into Black.

* * *

The memories just kept coming back. Every smell and every object in the room opened up some part of his past. He would suddenly remember all the random things he had done in his youth. It all came too quickly.

Sirius was overwhelmed by the sudden restoration of his memory. At the same time he wished he didn't have to remember the way things used to be. It just reminded him how painfully different things were now. When he was in Azkaban all he knew was that Remus was his friend and that they had spent their youths together at Hogwarts. Now he was seeing how Remus had changed from the kid he remembered from school. His mind was starting to list the differences between his school chum and the prematurely old werewolf that sat on the bed staring down at his godson with a distant look in his eyes. Moony wasn't the same anymore.

"It looks as if he is okay now, don't you think?" Remus asked him.

Sirius met his old friend's eyes. "I dunno. I don't think anybody is going to be okay for a long time." They had both been awake for hours and had not spoken more than a hundred words to each other. Sirius thought that it would be easy to speak to Remus; that they would spend hours talking about everything that happened the past seven years. He thought it would all come out naturally like it used to in his memories. He thought he would have spilled his heart out by now.

The head beneath Sirius's hand moved as the little boy sighed and snuggled further into the warm covers. It was quite cold this early in the morning and Sirius had collected every blanket he could find to cover Harry with. Maybe Harry was too warm now. Sirius would rather have Harry feel too warm than too cold.

"I wonder what he is dreaming about." Remus asked after a reasonable stretch of silence, "I wonder if he is dreaming about Lily and James."

Sirius sighed as he stroked Harry's head again. His memories of himself were ones where he was a over confident extrovert. Yet Sirius couldn't get himself to start a conversation between them. Remus had been trying very hard the past hour to get them both talking.

It would be sunrise soon.

"I haven't told Harry about padfoot yet." Sirius hesitated at the randomness of his comment. He mentally shrugged as he saw Remus shift his attention towards him. Remus looked relieved that some attempt at conversation was being made by Sirius. "I thought it would be a lot for the kid to take in. You know, his godfather is actually a dog doesn't seem like the kind of thing you would tell a kid who has recently been through what he has been through. It would confuse him or scare him or something."

An unfamiliar smile crept onto Remus's face. It didn't quite register with his memories. Sirius had never seen it before. "You have changed a lot." Remus said simply, "The old you wouldn't have given a damn. I was surprised that you didn't begin parading padfoot in front of him the moment we got out of that street. You would want to show off to your godson. You used to do it all the time when Harry was little. Lily would get so mad at you."

"Yeah, I think she tried to kick me out of the house once-" Sirius continued with a painful frown. It wasn't nice remembering the many different curses Lily put on him.

"But you never stayed away for too long." Remus finished with a raw smile, "You slept on their coach for about a year afterwards. It used to drive Lily mad. She would go on these howling fits and be furious with James. The next morning she would be asking you if you wanted bacon or sausage."

"I always did say that Lily was a bit mad." Sirius added on as an after thought. "She didn't like me at all. And when James chose me to be the godfather over you she had kittens. Went on a rampage about how irresponsible I was and how I couldn't take care of myself and probably wouldn't be able to take care of Harry. She always made me feel so loved and appreciated."

"Lily loved you like a brother Padfoot." Remus corrected in the same calm voice he used to preach to them at school in, "She might not always have, expressed it in a, reasonable way."

"what? You mean that time she started throwing her tea set at me was actually a very touching act of love? Gods Moony she nearly blinded me with that teapot." Sirius was enjoying this. The memories this conversation brought up were all good. They were all happy. "You and James were having a wonderful time though."

"It was very entertaining," Remus admitted trying to suppress the smile which was slowly twitching its way onto his face. "Don't get me wrong but watching Lily take out her frustrations on you was always funny. It's too bad Peter always had to rush off to his death eater meetings and didn't bother sticking around a while."

The sentence hung in the air. Sirius was left staring blankly at his friend through the dim light that shone into the room from the new morning sky. He didn't want to think about Peter and the casual way Remus was talking about the traitor was shocking. There was actual regret in the man's voice. It was as if Remus was actually sad that the little rat was never around much. It was wrong.

Remus got that weird smile on his face again and maintained eye contact with him for a while, before he shuffled off of the bed and stood up, "Sirius, don't get me wrong, I really don't like what Peter did. But knowing the truth about the past doesn't change it. He was our friend at Hogwarts and he was out friend after Hogwarts. No matter how much you might hate him, you cannot change what he meant to you." It was a very uncomforting smile. It was cold and it was teasing and much too grown up for Sirius's liking. Sirius didn't move a muscle as Remus began walking towards the door. "I'll make us some tea. I don't think eight year olds get up this early so I don't see the point in waiting for him to wake up." He said before he slipped out of the door into the cold, dark corridor that ran into the kitchen.

Sirius looked down at Harry. His fists were curled up around handfuls of blanket. He was remembering that the thing he always hated the most about Remus didn't change in the seven years he spent in Jail. The old wolf was still _always_ right.

His godson seemed to be sleeping very peacefully. Then again from what Sirius remembered about Harry when he was younger, he did sleep a lot. Lily always used to go on about how blessed she was that her son slept when he was tired. Sirius wondered if Harry had changed a lot from the little baby he used to play with. Well _obviously_ the kid would have grown. And, _obviously_ he would have changed. And, well, _obviously_ he wouldn't be like he was when he was one. _It was a stupid thought anyway_.

As he walked down the dark corridor, Sirius couldn't help but to wonder if what Remus had said was actually true. Had he changed a lot? Was it true that he never really gave a damn back then? Was he really such an inconsiderate person? He might not always have shown it in the right way but Sirius knew that he had always cared about people.

He paced into the kitchen and his eyes flickered up to find Remus. "Do you?" he asked the man as he leaned back onto the counter.

Remus was busy rummaging through his cupboard looking for suitable containers to drink tea from. He stopped suddenly and threw Sirius a very confused stare, "Do I what?"

Sirius shrugged, "Do you dream about Lily and James sometimes?"

"Oh," Remus unfroze and continued searching his cupboard, "not really."

"It must have been hard for you to get over their death and everything that happened." Sirius pressed on. "You must have worked through some serious denial."

Remus shrugged, "So would anybody if they wake up one morning and find out that three of their best friends were just gone." Remus charmed the kettle so that the water would begin to boil.

"And what about me?" Sirius asked him after a while. "How did you feel about me? Did you feel angry at me? Did you feel shocked? How did you feel when you found out that James and Lily were supposedly betrayed by me?"

Remus turned to face him with a blank expression, "Where is this going Sirius?" he asked with a solemn face.

"Just answer the question." Sirius urged on, "How did you feel about me?"

"I don't know. I was rather upset I suppose. Everyone trusted you so much." He acknowledged.

A silence fell between them again. Sirius was having a hard time digesting the words, "You were upset? Upset? Is that all you felt? You didn't feel betrayed or you didn't have a hard time believing it. You just felt, _upset_?" Did Remus really used to think that about him? Did everybody think that about him in the past? "You make it sound like you weren't surprised at all Remus. You make it sound as if you knew all along I was going to let James down."

"Sirius, I didn't say any such thing." His friend stated calmly, "You are blowing things out of proportion."

"Remus, believe it or not, I was never the insensitive jerk you and Lily had me figured out to be." Sirius felt his fist curling into the counter top. "I would never have done a thing to hurt either of them."

"Padfoot-" Remus said as he tried to interrupt.

"I know I never really showed you guys that I was a responsible adult-"

"Padfoot-" Remus tried again.

Sirius ignored him, "-but that doesn't mean that I wasn't responsible. There was a reason that James trusted me you know. You know James. With his dad and the way James was raised all paranoid about trusting people. Don't you think he would have had a reason for trusting me? Didn't you once think for a second, in all the seven years I sat locked up in Azkaban, that I didn't do it? Why would I hurt James and Lily that way Remus? Why would I hurt you that way? You guys were always the only thing I had!"

"Shhh." Remus hissed forcefully, "Don't start shouting. You will probably wake up Harry. Look Sirius, I am sorry that I didn't think twice about it. I really am. This is just the way things happened. You won't believe how guilty and sorry I feel for it. Anyway, I really need to go into the village to buy some milk. Just keep it down will you?"

Remus pushed away from the counter and with an unreadable look he had seen in many memories Remus moved towards the door. It was odd, but in Sirius's memories, Remus always acted this way sometimes. Sirius still couldn't figure out what the mood meant. It was the complete mood swing that Remus always did when Sirius started bitching to him about something. It was such a moony thing to do. In a sad way it brought his some comfort.

The front door opened and the cold wind that was blowing outside rushed into the cottage. Remus stayed standing in the doorway for a moment, "I really am sorry, Padfoot." He muttered before slamming it closed behind him. His voice was of haunting sincerity.

Sirius would admit that the things he used to do when he was younger weren't always so great. He would do very stupid things most of the time. But were his actions back then an accurate description of who he was? Remus and the rest of the world seemed to have expected him to be the sort to kill all those people and betray his best friend. It was as if they had all been waiting for him to turn bad. Nobody had found what he had been accused of difficult to believe.

Was it because of the way he had been raised? Was it the way he used to act? Was it the family he came from? Remus accepted it easier than he excepted James and Lily dying. Was he really such an asshole back then? Sirius sat down at the kitchen table facing the door and the big window besides it. His hands were numb with cold.

He wasn't a bad person. He was never a bad friend. He might have been a bit childish seven years back and he didn't take much seriously. He pulled a lot of pranks and made fun of a lot of people. But he was scarcely out of his bloody teens back then. How could everyone have expected him to just grow up overnight? It was unfair. All he ever tried to do was to have fun. He just wanted to live his life to the fullest. How could people mistrust him for it?

It was just so unfair.

* * *

Remus stumbled into the cottage and slammed the door shut behind him. The wind had rubbed his face raw and his entire body was shivering from the cold weather outside. His insides had frozen over as well, but for a completely different reason. When he looked up he saw Sirius sitting at the table looking at him with a curious expression on his sullen face. "Sirius, we need to take this all to Dumbledore. The faster we do it the better." Remus said trying to even out his breathing.

Had they seen him? How long would it be until they were standing at the door? What was he going to do? Dumbledore would be furious at him for not reporting Sirius and Harry straight away. He didn't want to make his old headmaster angry. It wasn't a good thing. Albus Dumbledore had always been a trusting and kind wizard. He had always given Remus as much respect as he would give any other human being. Remus didn't want Dumbledore to be angry at him. He didn't want the old headmaster to be inconvenienced by anything Remus did. Hiding a mass murderer and a stolen Harry Potter was defiantly something which would inconvenience Dumbledore. No doubt the old man had been trying tirelessly to find Harry. But, if Remus acted quickly and told Dumbledore that Sirius was here with Harry before his headmaster got here; if he wasn't seen by Moody in the village. Then Dumbledore couldn't be angry at him because Remus did indeed tell him the truth. He had to act quickly.

Sirius swallowed the mouth full of coffee and tilted his head in confusion, "I just got here Remus, and I don't think it would be a good idea to get Dumbledore involved just yet. You said he was pretty much against me and still is." His friend's head turned towards the hallway door and towards Harry.

Remus felt his breathing pick up a notch. What was going to happen? What if Dumbledore took Sirius and Harry away and he never got to see either of them again? Remus shook of his coat and let it drop to the floor. "I think they already know we are here Sirius. On my way into town I sort of came across these scorch marks near the road. They were made by curses Sirius. Wizards were here last night. I bet you anything they were aurors. Someone followed you here." Remus was frantically searching for some parchment in cupboards. He was remembering the weird circumstances which led up to the encounter he had with mad eye in the village. He had walked past the man hoping that Mad-eye's eye was looking somewhere ells. "If the aurors knew you were here, than Dumbledore knows you are here. We need to do something." Remus started pulled an old ruffled roll out from under a book of cooking recipes. He snatched up the quill and started writing.

He addressed the headmaster formally. Then started scribbling down a very brief explanation of what happened. He had to send this quickly; he had to send this quickly. How far away were they? How quickly were they walking? His headmaster could always walk either very quickly or very slowly. So he didn't know how much time he had before they came barging in. Arresting Sirius and taking Harry away. He couldn't let them take Harry away. He loved Harry. He needed to be around the boy. The kid looked so much like James and acted so much like Lily.

"Maybe you should write slower. Calm it down a bit. And tell me what you are doing." Sirius put a calming hand on his shoulder. "What aren't you telling me? Why are you so out of breath?"

Remus stopped writing for a moment and looked up at him with fearful eyes, "I was followed on my way home Sirius. It was Mad-eye. They are coming Padfoot. Dumbledore and Moody are on their way and they - I just don't know what to do."

It was true. Remus didn't know what to do any more. Dumbledore would probably be here any moment. Would it even matter if he wrote the damn letter? The headmaster would have seen through it and moody would defiantly have noticed him in the first place back in the village. Not only would he lose his friend and James's son but he would lose the trust of the one man who always gave him a chance. The first man to look past the fact that he was a werewolf. Remus didn't know what to do. He dropped the quill and abandoned the letter. "How are you going to convince Dumbledore that you are innocent? I just got you and Harry back I don't want the two of you to be taken away. I just. Don't know what to do. They are coming." Remus was working himself into a state.

Sirius's grip on his shoulder increased and Remus felt himself hold back tears. This was turning out to be the worst day since that Halloween. It was all going horribly wrong. Before Remus had chance to think another thought the front door burst open. Remus's head shot up and turned towards Dumbledore and Moody who were both walking briskly into the room with their wands drawn. Remus watched in horror as Mad-eye stunned Sirius. Sirius's grip on his shoulder relaxed and his friend fell towards the floor before Remus could do anything.

"Remus, do you know where Harry is." Dumbledore asked in a stern voice. His blue eyes had no twinkle in them and his face was expressionless. It frightened Remus so much. "Remus, do you have any idea were Harry Potter is?" Dumbledore asked again.

Slowly Remus nodded, his eyes watching as Mad-eye went about the business of tying Sirius's body to a chair. This was just awful. Sirius didn't do it. This was just wrong.

"Where is he?" Dumbledore asked moving towards him. "Remus where is Harry? Show me." He commanded placing his old hand on the place where Sirius's palm had rested moments before. "Remus, I need to know that Harry is okay. Please try and understand that this is very important."

The headmaster's eyes did not at all compliment his voice which had suddenly gone soft. Reluctantly Remus's head nodded, "He is in the bedroom." Remus said quietly, with another glance at Sirius's limp body being tied to a chair by a very pissed of Moody, Remus began moving towards the hallway door and towards his bedroom. The headmaster followed briskly. "Professor," he started saying, "This isn't what it seems."

The man behind him said nothing, when they got to the door Remus opened it and Dumbledore brushed past him into the bedroom. The old man located Harry very quickly and approached the bed immediately. "Remus, is Harry harmed in any way?" Dumbledore asked him quietly his old hand resting on Harry's head.

"No, sir. He is just tired. Professor, please listen to me." Remus said urgently, "This is all a big misunderstanding. Sirius didn't do it. Sirius didn't kill those muggles. He is innocent."

The old man heaved a great sigh and relaxed visibly, "you are the second person to tell me thus. Do not worry Remus, I came here only to find out the truth." The old man looked up at him with the usual twinkling eyes, "You would excuse me for my rudeness Remus. I am sorry that we barged in here like we did. The warden of Azkaban contacted me this morning at a very early hour and told me that Sirius and Harry were to be found at your residence. I intend to question Mr. Black. That is all. The minister for magic and the head auror are very determined to kill Sirius and I think that I might be able to provide some protection against that if I know the truth of the matter." Dumbledore looked once more upon Harry and then turned away from him altogether and headed back towards the door.

Remus felt relief spread through him. He took a deep breath, "Sir, if Sirius is innocent, what will happen?"

The old man drew up next to him and looked at him curiously, "A great many things Remus. I will of course bring Sirius's case up in the Wizengamont which would stall Cornerlius and Rufus from acting against Sirius's life. Ultimately, I suppose Sirius would be proven innocent in front of a full jury of members. If your friend is innocent I would let him stay here in your care if you choose." Dumbledore stated fairly.

"I would. But Professor, what would happen to Harry?" Remus asked quietly looking over to the little boy's sleeping form.

"Harry will be taken back to his family's residence in Surrey." Dumbledore said calmly.

"Can't he stay here, for at least a while?" Remus blurted out, "I – I finally get to see him. I want him to stay."

"Harry is safest at his aunt's house Remus," Dumbledore said with a distant look in his eyes, "But, I will speak with her and if she agrees then I do not see why the boy cannot stay the duration of Christmas." A soft smile touched Dumbledore's lips. He left the room after fixing Remus with an understanding look and went back into the kitchen where Moody had probably already set everything up for the questioning.

Remus let out the breath he had been holding. Everything suddenly seemed fine. Sirius was innocent and when Dumbledore found it out he would go out of his way to make sure everything worked out fine. Dumbledore would take care of it from here on in. And, Harry didn't have to go home. He could stay here. It was perfect. It was more than Remus could have hoped for. Today wasn't such a bad day after all.

* * *

Harry wormed his way out of the covers and slowly let his feet drop to the wooden floor. He didn't know where Sirius and Moony was. They were there when he fell asleep and when he woke up they were just gone. Harry didn't think that they would leave him all alone. Moony would certainly not leave a house as nice as this. They would come back. Moony had to come back to the house. They wouldn't leave him all alone. And even if they did it wouldn't be that bad. Moony's house was very far away from Private Drive and there were a lot of books to keep him busy. It would take ages to read all of them. Then there were also the photo albums. They would take ages to look through. It wouldn't be that bad if they didn't come back for him, but it wouldn't be that great either.

Harry really liked Sirius and Moony. They were really nice to him. Sirius even bandaged his back just like aunt Petunia did whenever Dudley hurt himself. She would clean the wound, just like Sirius cleaned his back; she would wrap it up in bandages just like Sirius did last night. And last night, Sirius and Moony tucked him into bed. Just like aunt Petunia did every single night with Dudley. They didn't read him a story. But Harry didn't really mind. He had no doubt that moony could read. Moony was really clever and Moony knew so much. But he wasn't sure if Sirius could read. So he wasn't angry at Sirius for not reading him a bedtime story. He also wasn't angry at moony for not reading him a bedtime story. Moony was probably very tired. Harry had been asking him so many questions. Aunt Petunia always said that answering questions was troublesome. So Moony had to be very troubled after Harry had asked him all those questions about his mum and dad.

Harry looked around the room as he stood there. His shirt was very big and quiet old, but it was soft and clean. He was used to clothes like this. All his clothes were big and old. Though Moony's clothes were different, they felt different. It was like Moony really loved his clothes. Harry couldn't quite explain it. But it was like Moony took care of them. Dudley never took care of his clothes. There were always holes in them and they were always stained by the time Harry got them. The sleeves were usually frayed and the material was always so thin.

He quite liked Moony's house. There were so many books. Everything was wooden and worn. Everything was old and used. It wasn't at all like Aunt Petunia's house. It felt real. It felt like real people lived here. The room was really beautiful. Two bookshelves lined one wall and an old wardrobe was on the other side. Everything smelled like Moony. Everything looked like moony too. It was all old and proper and used. Like it was a million years old.

Harry walked over to the bookshelf, and looked at the interesting books. They looked very old and all their spines were cracked so many times that Harry thought they must have been read many times. He could just imagine Moony sitting in the old chair near the fireplace and reading the books. Over and over again. They would be like friends to him. Whenever Moony got sad he would read the book that made him laugh. Whenever Moony got lonely he would read the book that made him feel loved. Harry really liked books because they could make everything better.

The door creaked open behind him and Harry's head spun backwards. Sirius's head was wedged between the door and the wall and he had a soft smile on his lips, "You are awake," he said happily, "I didn't really know how long you would be sleeping in but I am glad you are up." The door creaked open further and Sirius walked into the bedroom, "Did you sleep well Harry?"

Harry nodded, "I slept fine." He said shortly turning his body away from the bookshelf. Sirius came to a stop in front of him. "I thought you and Moony went-went away." Harry added on as he stared into his godfathers blue eyes. "I- I woke up and –and you weren't here."

"We were in the kitchen Harry." Sirius replied gently, his hand came to rest lightly on his head. "What would you say to some breakfast? I bet you are hungry."

Harry bit his lip and allowed Sirius to street him out of the room. Harry was very hungry. He hadn't eaten in a long time. But he didn't really want to say anything to Sirius. He didn't really want to annoy Sirius or anything. Because Harry knew that Sirius had been hungry too and if Sirius could do something to feed himself he would have done it. So there was nothing Sirius could do to feed Harry and complaining to Sirius would only make Sirius angry at him. Harry didn't want Sirius to be angry at him. Harry wanted Sirius to like him. But it didn't change the fact that he was still hungry.

"What would you like for breakfast Harry," Sirius asked as he opened the kitchen door, "Remus made some porridge. Do you like Porridge?"

Harry nodded vigorously. He didn't really like porridge, but he wasn't going to let Sirius and Moony know that. If they liked porridge than they wouldn't like it if he didn't like porridge. If Harry kept Moony and Sirius happy, they would maybe let him stay longer. Maybe forever. That way he would never have to go back to private drive and could spend everyday reading books with moony and talking to Sirius and going through the old albums with the pictures of his mum and dad. Forever and ever. Until school started again. Maybe Harry could go to a school near Moony's house. Then he would be able to live here. If Sirius and Moony were okay with him going to school. If they weren't okay with it. Harry could always just stay here and read. He could read all of Moony's books and be just as clever as Moony afterwards.

"good morning Harry." Moony said looking up from the news paper. Which was odd because Uncle Vernon always shouted at Harry when he was busy reading the news paper. Moony folded the news paper and placed it neatly besides his half empty plate of porridge, "I trust you slept well."

Harry nodded as Sirius helped him into a chair. Harry could get into the chair himself, but Sirius always seemed to want to do things like that. It was sort of annoying, but as long as Sirius was happy, he could stay. Sirius disappeared behind him towards the stove and Harry was left staring at Moony. Moony's face was all weird. He had that odd look in his eyes again, the one he always got when he was staring at Harry. It wasn't an uncomfortable look. But it always made Harry sad. There was just something in Moony's eyes that was sad.

"Did you have any good dreams?" Sirius asked him, setting a steaming plate of porridge and a clean spoon in front of Harry and taking up the seat next to him. "Do you want me to help you eat? Do you want something to drink? I think Remus has some milk, and some juice. I don't know which kind of juice it is."

"Orange juice." Moony answered with a frown, "I think I used to have grape juice but I finished it last week sometime."

"He has orange juice. Would you like me to get you some orange juice?" Sirius continued, "or how about a glass of water? Do you even like orange juice?"

"If you don't like orange juice we could always go out and buy something else." Moony interrupted.

Harry bit his lip again. He didn't want them to go out and buy something especially for him. "Orange juice." Harry answered.

Sirius jumped up and disappeared behind him again, busying himself in the kitchen. Harry picked up the clean spoon and began wolfing down the porridge. He didn't really like porridge but it was food. And if Moony liked porridge than Harry didn't want to upset him by not eating it. Aunt Petunia always got upset whenever Dudley said her food wasn't good enough. She would cry and then get into the car and drive into town to buy him take away food. Harry didn't really mind what he ate. Though he really didn't like porridge. He just didn't want to make Moony and Sirius cry like Dudley always made aunt Petunia cry. He wanted to stay here.

Harry just wished they would let him do somethings. Harry could make his own breakfast and get his own orange juice. He felt bad that Sirius had to do it. He didn't want to make Sirius's life difficult. But he didn't want to make Sirius upset by telling him that he couldn't do things for Harry anymore. It was confusing, but it looked like Sirius was enjoying doing all these things for him. Harry didn't really know why. Nobody every enjoyed doing things for him. That is why nobody ever did anything for him. Except Moody. Moody took Harry to see Sirius even though he never enjoyed it. He was always very sad. And Haden was even more sad when he tried taking Harry home. He had a very sad face. Harry didn't like it. He didn't want to make all these grown ups so sad. It was exactly the same type of sad that he saw in Moony's eyes. Moody and Moony's names were almost exactly the same. It was odd. They were both really miserable too.

Sirius set a large glass of orange juice besides his plate and sat down at Harry's side again, "Do you want anything else?"

Harry shook his head shyly, "Thankyou, its-its lovely."

Sirius nodded, "It's a pleasure kid."

Harry ate another spoonful of his porridge. He wanted to ask questions about what was going to happen next. But he didn't want to upset Sirius and moony. He wanted to know if he was going back to private drive but he didn't want to give them ideas. Grown ups were funny that way. You had to be careful what you said in front of them. They usually got funny idea's from the things you said.

"Do you like it here?" Moony asked softly.

Harry knew that Moony had been watching him. Moony did that last night too. He just kept watching Harry with that sad look in his eyes. "yes." Harry answered; he paused for a moment in his eating and looked around the room. It seemed in every room there were books. Harry liked that.

"I thought that if you are finish eating you might want to finish taking a look at those albums." Moony pressed on.

Harry's face lit up. Moony was looking at him with a sincere smile. He was being serious. Moony would actually sit with him and look at all the pictures and answer all his questions. Moony was really nice. Aunt Petunia would never do that. Aunt Petunia never talked about his mum and dad. Harry didn't even think that Aunt Petunia had a photo album of his mum and dad. Moony was too nice to Harry. It was something that was beginning to make Harry feel uncomfortable.

"Yeah, and afterwards we could do some other fun stuff." Sirius added on. "We could go for a walk or play games or-"

"read." Harry interrupted. He bit his lip immediately. He didn't mean to let it slip. He was just – he really wanted to read.

"or we can read." Sirius carried on, "do you want to read one of those books in Moony's room?"

Harry wiggled his lip between his teeth for a while before brining himself to answer, "Yes." He blurted out. He had wanted to read one of the books for ages. Moony and Sirius were smiling at each other. It was a secretive smile that Harry wasn't really apart of. But Harry didn't mind. It was fine. He didn't need to be apart of it as long as he was here. Moony and Sirius were so nice to Harry. They spoke so softly to him. He wished he could make them like him as much as Harry liked them. He wished he could maybe even make them love him like aunt Petunia always loved Dudley. Harry wished he knew how to make someone love him. He could never really figure out how Dudley did it. Dudley always complained and made aunt Petunia cry. But aunt Petunia loved him no matter how naughty he had been. Dudley was allowed to break stuff and make a mess and aunt Petunia always loved him.

Harry was not allowed to break stuff or make a mess. Aunt Petunia didn't love Harry even when he did break stuff and make a mess. Harry never really knew why. It was rather unfair. He wished he knew how Dudley did it. Maybe it was one of those things some people are just born with. The ability to make people love you was something Harry was just not born with. That would be why aunt Petunia never treated Harry like she did Dudley. But Sirius and Moony were nice men. They were so nice and they didn't shout. Not once did they shout at him yet. Harry wished he could make them love him. That way he would never have to go back. He could stay here and they would always be this kind to him.

Maybe if Harry was really good, Sirius and Moony would tuck him in again tonight like they did last night. Maybe they would make him breakfast again if he were really really good. If he just did like they wanted to then Harry couldn't make them angry. But it was hard. Because Sirius and Moony hadn't told him yet what would make them angry. Aunt Petunia always had rules. He wasn't allowed to go there or do this in her house. But here nobody had told him what he was and wasn't allowed to do yet. So Harry didn't know. So it would be very difficult to be good. Because there were no rules to follow. And if there were no rules to follow then it would be easier to break them because he didn't know what they were.

So it would be very difficult but Harry had to be perfect. If he was perfect he would never have to go back. And he could always be here. Forever and ever. Maybe even up till after the holiday's. He would never have to go back. He could live here, with uncle Moony and his godfather Sirius. It was very far away from private drive. For always.


	10. Chapter 10

**It's something we get used to**

It was odd how he always ended up in the fool's office. This time however there seemed to be a gathering of ministry idiots. All of them were waiting their turn to shit on him.

He was getting tired of answering the same damn questions. He was getting tired of getting the same damn responses. Things were not looking good for him at all. This could very well be the end of his career. The ministry seemed very pissed off at him for knowing Black's location and not acting out his capture. Fudge seemed more paranoid than ever and Rufus was beginning to wish he had never arranged that attempt on the minister's life and then blamed it all on Black. The man had been severely spooked by it to such an extent that he stopped making rational decisions. While Rufus was going for this effect a few months ago; hoping to make the man putty in his hands, now he really wished the idiot would think for himself. It was like the man was unable to make any decisions unless Umbridge thought it was a good idea.

Even though it was fair in a way that not all decisions were made by the minister for magic and another person had a strong say in it, Rufus would feel better if the ministry wasn't so greatly influenced by Umbridge's opinion. She was narrow minded and could never see the bigger picture of things. It frustrated Rufus to work with people like her.

The other two people who were sitting in on this unofficial meeting were Bones and Crouch. They were both quietly watching the proceedings. Rufus knew that neither of them were foolish and he would probably have one hell of a meeting with both of them when this was finished. They both knew by now that something serious had happened.

Rufus didn't honestly believe he would be employed by the ministry for long anymore. All the possibilities of what could happen included him being sacked. Years of fighting to be head auror suddenly seemed worthless. He would lose his job and in order to put them back in the publics favor the ministry would pin him with all the blame. It would be his fault that an innocent man ended up in Azkaban for seven years. It would be his fault that the criminal trials directly following the first rising were never properly conducted or recorded. It would be his fault that all those un-convicted men died in Azkaban. He would become the most hated head auror in British history. His auror license would most likely be revoked.

Rufus had lost everything.

"What do you mean you aren't going to arrest Black? I am the minister for magic! You have to do as I say! If you do not then I will have you removed." Fudge howled from his desk swinging his fist dramatically and failing once again to launch a successful threat.

Rufus smiled grimly at the man; his wand was ready on his fingertips for a fight if it came to that. _The minister didn't have any say in that matter at all. Bones decided everything that had to do with her department. Fudge was as harmless as he was an idiot. It meant nothing. It was an empty threat. When it was time for Rufus's removal Fudge would have little to no say in it at all._

"What I mean, Cornelius, is that arresting Black would be very bad for the ministry." Rufus stated again noticing the way that Amelia's and Bartley's eyes narrowed in suspicion. They were the ones he would need to talk to later. If anyone needed to know what was at stake it was them. "I have located Black and I have located Potter but I will not give away the location nor will I arrest Black. He will remain where he currently is under auror surveillance until such a time as I can ensure the safety of the ministry were a certain thing to happen."

"And what is this thing?" Umbridge lashed out. The toad of a woman had taken up her usual place behind Fudge's shoulder.

"It is something that is classified to anyone outside of my department. I cannot inform you of it. Understand, however, that I was chosen as head auror and you must therefore trust and respect my decision on the matter of Sirius Black." Rufus answered in a stiff voice. That woman was disgusting. She was a nasty piece of work.

"I do not think the Minister should be left out of this matter. I personally think that you should tell us what this matter is. You have no authority for keeping secrets from the minister!" She declared in her sickly sweet voice.

"Actually, he does Dolores." Madam Bones corrected quietly from her chair, "The auror division has always been given the right to keep certain information a secret. As head Auror the choice is his. If Rufus deems it too important to share than it most likely is."

"Well I demand it!" Fudge bellowed, "When I get approached by reporters this afternoon on my way home I need to be able to tell them something. Harry Potter is missing. Sirius Black broke out of Azkaban. One auror dead and another one critically injured. What am I supposed to say to them? This all reflects badly on me! Everyone is going to think that I am some incompetent fool who has no idea what is happening in my ministry!"

Rufus bit his tongue to keep from making a rude remark. He was already in hot water there was no reason to turn up the heat. Fudge was very sensitive about his media image and had been growing more and more paranoid about it for months. Pointing out to him that the media would probably have the right idea about him wasn't going to make matters easier. Fudge would go off into another eleven minute rant about how he wasn't an idiot. Which was a very tragic thing to watch him do.

It was getting late anyway.

He really could do with a drink.

He wanted to be back in his office where he was alone.

He had already been in five meetings today; two with Dumbledore, two with the minister and one with Moody. Not to mention the three hour press conference at St. Mungoes about Heywood's injuries and the death of his friend. He had never spun such stories in his life. Rufus was exhausted. He was tired of fighting today.

"Very well," he said in a defeated voice, "If you really must know. The warden of Azkaban has in his possession the file of Sirius Black's trial."

"What does that have to do with anything?" Umbridge squealed, "Surely that cannot be a threat against the ministry. I am afraid Rufus that time has made you just a little bit paranoid."

Rufus was quietly watching the reactions of Bones and Crouch. Both were sitting straighter in their chairs and both were exchanging grim expressions. He made to get up, "The problem, _my dear_ , is the fact that Sirius Black never had a trial at all. He was never prosecuted. He is therefore innocent in the eyes of the law." With a swift nod at Crouch and Bones he left the ministers office. They would sort it out. He didn't want to be part of the conversation that would now follow. He didn't want to hear what they were going to do. He already knew their options. Bones was a fair woman but she wasn't spineless. She would immediately put Rufus down as a sacrifice.

By tomorrow his fate would be decided.

It was late and the ministry building was empty. Walking down the deserted hallways was something he was used to doing. He had spent his youth in this building, staying well pass closing hours to do most of Moody's paperwork. He liked the building better when it wasn't crowded. This was probably the last time he would be allowed to stay in the ministry after closing hours. After tomorrow they would keep proper track of him the moment he set foot inside the building. They would make sure he was out before six. He would never walk down the deserted hallways again.

Rufus opened up his office door and shuffled inside unenthusiastically. When he was younger he had always wanted this office so badly. He used to have the cubicle outside it. Moody would usually bark commands at him from inside. Moody was never around the ministry building a lot and was usually in the field but whenever he was in the ministry building he was always sitting comfortably in the luxurious chair behind his desk. It always seemed like such a position of power to Rufus. He controlled a room full of aurors so easily from behind that desk. He was let in on everything. He had a hand in every operation and investigation. He was a great auror.

Rufus remembered that he used to sit at his cubicle desk and watch the man through the open door as he ran Britain with ease. All Rufus ever wanted to do was be that man. He wanted to command that respect from everyone else. He wanted so badly to be that important.

Now it was all over. There was nothing he could do to maintain that position. He would take the blame for the ministry's injustices. He would lose his job which had always been the only thing he had worked towards. What was there left for him to do with his life?

It was so _unfair_.

It was _so_ unfair.

Rufus lingered at the desk and let his eyes drift over all the things that lay scattered upon it. Half read files and half filled in reports; old books and unimportant pieces of paper. And a letter?

His hand gingerly moved towards the corner and pulled it out from underneath the tower of unfinished paperwork.

 _Oldest friend_

 _Last night was rough. It's always rough between us. I don't really know why. I see so much of myself in you it shocks me. I see so many of my mistakes being repeated by you. I see so much of your frustration and know so well the predicament you are currently sitting in. I bet you are waiting to be yelled at. Bet you set up a waiting list for people to come shout at you. You never liked getting into trouble and you never liked doing something wrong. Even when we were kids you always dreaded doing something wrong. This is probably why you shouldn't even have bothered becoming an auror._

 _I never gave a fuck. Moody never gave a fuck. Nobody in that entire ministry building gives a fuck. You were the only one who ever cared. I still don't know why you just had to try and change that. I still don't know why you are still trying so hard to change that. You were never the heartless prick I was Rufus. You will never be the heartless prick I was no matter how hard you try or how far you push yourself. I can't understand why anyone would try as hard to become someone like me. You were always trying to force yourself into my mold. Even when we were kids you were always pushing yourself to be me._

 _You were never supposed to have become an auror. You were much too nice to become an auror. Moody saw right through you, even before he got his eye. He knew you weren't cut out for the job. He knew you were too good. He knew you were too nice. He knew you were too damn righteous. People like you are not supposed to be anywhere near the ministry. They are supposed to be as far away from it as possible. But you just never seemed to figure it out. Even after all these years you still haven't got a clue._

 _Rufus. Why do you think I left the ministry? You know I had a lot going for me and you know I was damn good at my job. I was the best there was. I probably still am. So why would someone with a future as bright as mine just up and leave? Why would I take to a place like this little shit rock? Haven't you ever thought that it was odd when Mad-eye retired? The only thing Mad-eye was ever good at was being an auror. So why would he just stop? We both know he still had another two to ten years left in him. Why would the greatest auror of the centaury just stop?_

 _Don't you get it? While you were trying to be like us we were trying to be more like you. We wanted to have your sense of wrong and right. We wanted to feel the guilt we saw in your eyes every time you came back from a mission that involved you doing something dodgy. We wanted to have that appreciation and understanding of people that you were just born with. Since the day I met you I have been trying to be you. I have been trying to be as solid as you. Since the day we became friend I have been so jealous. You were everything I have never been able to be; so considerate, so well balanced, so damn nice and such a sickeningly good person. It irritated the shit out of me just sharing an apartment with you and seeing how structured your life was._

 _You're the reason Moody and I didn't want to be aurors anymore. We wanted to be human instead. You have no idea how much I wished I was you all those years ago. Why do you think I took your girl as my wife? Do you think I did it to spite you? No you dumb fuck, I did it cause I wanted to feel the love that I saw between the two of you. I wanted to be apart of it. It was something I had never imagined feeling. And I am sorry if my actions hurt you but I didn't know how to go about it any other way. It was so hard being your friend. It was impossible to be your friend because everything I did ended up hurting you. I never wanted to hurt you. I never meant to hurt you. I was just born with this ability to hurt everyone. It's what made me such a good auror. Such a great interrogator._

 _While I was trying my ass off to become half the decent human being you were, you had to go and throw it all away by forcing yourself to be more like me and Moody. I still don't know why you did that._

 _You had everything a man could ever need Rufus, you had a soul. You were a complete person. Why would you choose to give it all up and become an emotionless soldier for an organization as stupid as the ministry of magic? Why would you give it all up for something so worthless? It consumed you man. You always accuse me of steeling her away from you, did you ever consider that you were driving her away. You were always busy doing this and doing that. You were always at the fucking ministry. She was so upset._

 _But I loved her. I learned to love her. I loved the shit out of her. I loved every minute I was with her. And I think with time she started to love me. Not the same way she loved you. Cause she was over the fucking moon in love with you._

 _I just thought you aught to know why I left and why I am leaving. It's so hard to be like you. I've been trying for so long now. I am sick of feeling like I am empty. I am sick of being so miserable all the time. I don't care for what you are trying to become. But I love the person you are._

 _You are my best friend. You are the thing that has inspired me for the better part of my life. You are the reason I am out here on this rock trying to make myself pay for being such a demon. And I wish I could just be more like you used to be._

 _I don't know why things work out the way they do. I was never meant to have a soul. And I was never meant to be at peace._

 _Sometimes I think that she was just a dream you know. She was just a dream in a lifetime of nightmares. She was so damn beautiful. She understood me. She was so perfect. I loved her so much. I miss her. I miss both of them so much. I am so sick of missing her and running from her. I am tired of pushing her away. I don't want to be alone anymore. I have been missing her forever. And it hurts._

 _Family tends to die you see and people tend to screw themselves up. Friends tend to turn on you and everything you believe in tends to be a load of bullshit at the end. Nothing is ever solid and nothing is ever true. Life just keeps screwing everyone over and I am so sick of watching it all happen._

 _When you read this, I'll be gone._

* * *

Moody had seen many things.

He had lived through two great wizard wars, he had been to every corner of the globe tracking down dark wizards, he had watch men die in every way imaginable and he had been in the presents of many great and many disgusting human beings.

After years of investigating scenes of torture and murder you could sense it very clearly. You could sense pain and you could sense loss. Walking into a building where something bad had happened set off alarms in his mind. Most times you couldn't always see that something wrong had happened. Most of the time people tended to cover up very well. They would wipe away the blood and get rid of the body. Yet, when you walked into the room you felt something.

It was so quiet.

The sounds of the sea hitting the fortress's walls were nothing but distant murmurs of dislike. A strong wind was pushing against the northern end of Azkaban today but once Mad-eye had closed the great doors he didn't feel it nor thought about it much. It was as if he had walked into a different world that wasn't influenced at all by the storm outside. Part of what had always made Azkaban such a terrifying place was the weather. That _foul_ cold feeling you got in your bones when you stayed here too long was connected in some way to the angry sea and the intense skies. This morning seemed to have changed all of that. Azkaban felt empty. Nothing sinister lingered in the air. It was all just hollow hallways carved out of stone and rock. The fortress wasn't what it usually was. Something had changed.

Moody made his way up the stone steps. It was just past five in the morning and it was bloody cold outside. His leg was acting up again because of the temperature and it wasn't at all pleasant moving it. He had his wand clutched tightly in his hand ready to face whatever sight was to be found in Haden's office. He pushed the door open as he walked through the doorway.

A sudden draft ran through the office and down the stairway into the dark prison below.

One of the windows was open and the crisp sound of waves crushing rock could be heard clearly.

The room was dark.

The room was empty.

The desk had been cleared of the papers and books.

There was nothing lying on the floor.

Everything that once stood against the wall wasn't there anymore.

The office had been stripped of all its possessions.

Moody let out a slow breath and stepped out of the current of cool air flowing out of the door. As he walked forwards carefully studying the surroundings a sudden movement caused his magical eye to spin towards the desk. It was only the damn dog. The poor beast was huddled against the desk trying to stay warm. It had been chained to the table it seemed. It had been left here by its master.

Mad-eye moved towards the animal and it shyly stumbled out from under the table to rub its head against his good leg. The mutt seemed scared. Mad-eye could only imagine how long it had been alone in this freezing office. His fingers found the chain that bound it and with his eyes, followed it down to where it lay crushed beneath the desk's leg. Mad-eye carefully lifted the desk a bit and pulled the chain out from underneath it.

When the dog had its neck back it ran straight for the open window. The creature stood in front of it barking madly at wind that rushed in.

Moody walked towards the window.

He maneuvered around the dog.

He leaned over the window sill and looked down.

On the rocky land beneath the window he saw books and paper scattered unevenly. All of the possessions were slowly being devoured by the sea. With each wave that hit the rock something was pulled back into the storm.

Haden had thrown everything out of his office.

He had tied up his dog.

He had left the window open.

Had he jumped?

Had he followed his possessions out into the storm?

What happened here?

* * *

 _He could still feel it even though he knew it was no longer there._

 _A sudden thud and the explosion of pain it caused. As if something was trying to break a hole through him. The force of it beating his body backwards until it rammed against the hard rough bark of the big tree behind him. Sliding to the muddy ground in a panic as he tried to suck air into lungs. But the air wouldn't go into his mouth. He couldn't breath. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't breathe. His mouth was open but no air was coming in. And the pain. It was growing very quickly from the area that was hit. He wanted to cry out but he couldn't get enough air into his lungs to make a sound._

 _His head fell to the slimy soil. It climbed into his hair; his shirt was soaking up the water present in the grass. A sickening crackle rang out into the night and the voice of a man in agony caused his eyes to find the source. The man was nothing but a shadow. Twitching and jerking around on the ground like a possessed snake. His body making movements that no human being should have been able to make. The sharp drowning notes of pain that came from his bleeding mouth made him think of one of those big church bells because the sound of the screaming seemed to travel across the entire surrey making the air shimmer and vibrate with his hurt. It seemed like the thing that danced in such agony in front of him with the blood rushing out of his nose and mouth was burning up from the inside. There was a loud crunch, and the shadow folded on itself, all the bones in its body breaking and splintering. They became like spikes that forced there way out of his body. And with it speckles of blood flung themselves out in arcs away from the crippled corpse that once was a man._

 _His boots were already layered with muck. They had already ploughed there way through the grass as he turned and dodged with an accuracy that was inhuman. A disgusting pleasure gleaming in his eyes as he turned his attention to the last living figure as it tried to attack him. It was like he had written the script for this scene and had rehearsed it many times. His hand came up in a sweeping motion his body bend to the side to allow a bundle of burning blue cords to pass him and with a sickening ease he ran the tip of the gleaming red knife across the man's throat._

 _The shadow fell onto his knees immediately grabbing at the gushing line that ran across his throat. He watched at the shadow fell to the ground squirming on his back and gasping for air. He could hear the revolting sound of the shadow breathing through the hole in his windpipe and then the choking that came from the blood running down into his lungs.  
_

 _Harry shut his eyes and rolled away from the sight. The dying man's eyes had found his and had held his gaze for a second. They cried out for help and in such panic. Harry snuggled up closer to the tree. Tears were stinging his eyes. His throat was raw with his unheard screams. he was able now to take small breaths. But they just weren't enough. His tummy hurt so much. His chest was pricking him and every time he moved the pain just became more._

 _And somewhere above him, he knew that Haden was standing half hidden by shadows; his face twisted into a cruel smile as he watched the man dying slowly in front of him._

Harry woke up shivering. Clutching the blanket tightly and biting into the pillow. He hoped that he didn't make any noise this time. He didn't want anyone to rush in and tell him it was all right. He hated it when Sirius and Moony told him it was going to be alright. He didn't want them to feel like they had to lie for him. He didn't want them to run after him like this at all. He didn't want to cause them any more trouble than he had already caused them. He wanted to stay here forever. He never wanted to go back to that place ever again. He had managed to stay here this long. He had been very good this far. But nothing was going to be alright anytime soon.

Sirius and Moony didn't like it when Harry was upset. They didn't like it when he woke up from nightmares in a state like this. They didn't like hearing about him living in a cupboard and being ignored. They didn't like him talking about his aunt and uncle they way Harry did. They got upset very easily. Moony would get a deep frown and go all silent; Sirius would start questioning Harry about it. Harry had come to hate Sirius's questions. They were difficult to answer and very tiring.

His heart was still pounding wildly and Harry knew that it would take a very long time for it to go back to normal. He didn't want to lift his teeth out of the pillow because Harry knew that Moony and Sirius had very good hearing and he knew that if he freed his mouth he would start making crying noises. They would rush in turn on the lights and cradle him telling him how it was just a bad dream.

It was more than just a bad dream. It happened. He had been there. He saw it all happening. It wasn't like in the story books. It wasn't like in the movies. The blood was real. The pain was real. The people really existed. The place still existed. Harry _really_ saw them all dying. It was horrible. There was so much pain. And the blood and the horrible noises their bodies made. It was all real. He had been apart of it. It wasn't just a bad dream.

He had been here for about three weeks now. It was great. There was food, as much as he could ever want. He had his own bedroom. He could do whatever he wanted to do. Sirius and Moony really cared about him. There were even pictures of him mum… and his dad. Moony would always tell him new stories about his dad. As much and as often as Harry would ask him. Sirius was very funny. Harry liked talking to him because Sirius made it fun. And there were many books. Sirius read to him every night. Like Harry had always wanted. Moony had some very boring books about things and people Harry had never heard about. But there were some nice stories. Moony didn't really like fiction as much as non-fiction.

It was still great. Harry wanted to stay here and always feel this cared for. But he had been having the same dreams for a while now. Sirius and Moony got upset when he had them. Harry didn't know how to stop having them. Frankly, Harry was getting angry at Moony and Sirius for always suggesting he should forget about them. It wasn't a memory Harry could forget. It was a terrible memory. It was dark and thinking about it made him feel like throwing up. It was exhausting trying to hide how he felt all the time. It was exhausting trying to play a nice good boy so that he wouldn't have to go back to the dursley's.

Harry knew that Moony and Sirius wouldn't like it if Harry did what he really felt like doing. They wouldn't like it if he locked himself in the bathroom and cried as much as he felt like crying. They wouldn't like it at all. It would upset them maybe even make them angry.

The wet patch on his pillow was growing. The tears were starting to slow down now and he was calming down slowly. He gently unclamped his teeth and immediately took a deep rattling breath. Harry plunged his face back into the pillow and hoped that nobody had heard him. Moony and Sirius had been staying up late the past couple of night. They where always sitting in front of the fire and talking. It didn't really feel like Harry was part of the conversation. They didn't talk about him. They didn't invite him to be part of it.

It made Harry feel upset because he had been apart of everything they did during the day and then they ignore him when it was night. It sometimes felt no better than living with the Dursleys who always excluded him. Harry hated it when they excluded him. It felt like all the times they were nice to him. All the jokes and talks and time they spent with him. Were like an act. At night they took their break. At night he became invisible again.

The next time he lifted his head out of the pillow and took a breath, it was a normal one. Harry sat up in the bed and hugged his knees in the dark. It was like everything that had happened to him in the past two months were finally catching up with him. Like the dreamy state he was in when he first got here at Moony's house was ending and he was back in the cold real world again. Where nothing ever seemed as good as he thought it was.

He wanted so badly for Moony and Sirius to love him. He had been trying to do everything he could think of that could make them love him. But it seemed like it wasn't good enough. It felt like they were only being kind to him because they had an obligation. Because of him mum and dad. Harry could hear in there voices that they both missed his parents. He had been trying for three weeks to get them to love him like they loved his parents and it still didn't feel like it had worked.

Everything had changed so quickly. Everything had happened so quickly and now nothing was changing anymore. He had been stuck here for almost a month and nothing had happened. He didn't want to force himself to be the perfect little boy anymore. But he didn't want Moony and Sirius to start hating him. He didn't want to go back to his aunt and uncle's house. He didn't want to have to walk past that park ever again. He had to make sure he stayed here for as long as possible. It was nice here.

Harry didn't sleep at all that night and faked it when Moony came to check up on him. Moony always checked up on him.

* * *

"I am sorry it ended like this." Moody said softly.

Rufus stuffed the last of his clothing into his tog bag. The ministry had locked and warded his apartment so that Rufus couldn't enter and had deposited a plastic bag filled with his clothes on the floor in front of the door. The Ministry had decided to give Sirius Black the amount of two hundred thousand Galleons in compensation for his seven years in Azkaban. They also decided that Rufus was to pay half of this amount himself. The poor man had been forced to sell everything he possessed and take out two loans to come up with the money. Bones had sacked him and the Wizengamont took away his auror license. Fudge had made sure that every day in the court room was well covered by more than a few reporters and photographers. It had taken two weeks to clear up all the mess and work through all the bits and pieces. Of those two weeks it only took a day to clear Black's name. The other days had been one, long, over dramatized and drawn-out play the ministry put on for the media; in which Rufus was slandered and scolded for incompetence and the injustices he had done to the British community.

While the Wizagamont was going through the evidence in front of the media and anyone else who chose to come to the hearing, a bright spark journalist pointed out that there were people who were sentenced to Azkaban as death eaters but who were walking around freely in Britain. The next day the ministry had found a way to pin that on Rufus as well. Not only did Rufus sentence people to Azkaban without trials, but he also took bribes in the form of money and information from some of those people. The ministry had been able to come up with the necessary documentation overnight.

The lads face had been everywhere and every witch and wizard living in magical Britain knew of the unlawful trials of the post-war "clean up" and that Rufus was somehow to blame for the entire affair. Naturally nobody was impressed and a ruling had been called in the Wizengamont that all prisoners sentenced to Azkaban from October 1981 to June 1982 would have a retrial. It would keep the media occupied for a while. Long enough to forget the ministry's incompetence anyway.

Moody had known Rufus personally for about twenty years. The man had aged another decade in the past two weeks alone. Moody speculated that the thing that brought this about wasn't just the way the ministry used him to clean up their mistakes; it also had a lot to do with Haden. Rufus hadn't asked Moody any questions about it yet. He hadn't spoken about Haden at all. Mad-eye knew that it was eating him up too much to talk about it. He suspected Rufus would think of talking about it as betraying himself or something equally stupid.

Back in the days before Voldermort's rise to power, when Haden and Rufus were still young aurors fresh from the academy, Mad-eye remembered how much both of them depended on the other. The two of them were best of friends. The lived together and worked together. They spent every waking day together and for years Moody had been wondering about the nights too. They complimented each other perfectly. They balanced each other out. Rufus used to keep Haden alive. He used to make sure the man ate and didn't die of alcohol poisoning. Rufus used to be something of a mother to Haden. Splinting his arm after a battle and carting him off to St. Mungoes before he bothered paying attention to his own wounds. Haden used to make sure Rufus got somewhere in the field and in the office. He used to stand up for Rufus and get him to use the opportunities that Rufus often didn't grasp. Haden always had Rufus's back in a battle and especially during the war; which was something Moody had always scolded him for.

Even though things had not been smooth between them for almost a decade now; Moody knew that Rufus didn't just lose an old friend. He lost his best friend. Maybe, he saw it as losing his only friend.

Rufus stood up and slung his bag over his shoulder. "You aren't sorry." he answered angrily as he started moving down the hallway towards the staircase at the far end, "You couldn't be more pleased about me losing my position. So don't tell me all those lies about how sorry you are for me. Sod off Moody."

Mad-eye followed the boy quietly. In the past he would have expected words that were much colder to be thrown back at him. This wasn't like Rufus at all. "Where are you going now Rufus? You have no home and you have no money. It's Christmas Eve and you have no-one to spend it with."

"Bugger Christmas." He barked rudely as he trotted down the steps; loud enough to catch the attention of the family passing him on there way, presumably, to a family lunch.

Mad-eye smiled at the man's back; in the past Rufus would never have drawn any attention to himself at all. "I am heading over to Remus Lupin's Cottage. I think you should come with me. There will be a warm meal to eat there." Moody tried again as he limped from stair to stair, "It is the best thing for you my boy."

Rufus opened his mouth and let a sharp rift of cold laughter escape it as he pushed through the double doors and walked into the busy crowds of people cluttering the sidewalk, "Since when am I your boy Mad-eye?" He shouted over his shoulder as he pushed a way through the crowd, "Since when do you care what the best thing for me is? I am a grown man and you're treating me like a child. I don't need your pity. I don't want your pity. You were never supposed to pity me!"

It was freezing. Moody pulled his travelers cloak tightly around him and adjusted his bowler hat on his forehead. He did not want his appearance to draw attention from the people around him. Rufus was already making a scene as it was. The boy shoved violently past a woman causing her to stumble into a lamp post. A man called out after Rufus but his figure trudged on unhearing.

Moody didn't know where Rufus was going to. To his knowledge Mad-eye couldn't think of place the man could turn to when all of magical Britain disliked him dearly and his family had disowned him the instant they read his name in the paper. In the past Rufus might have sought shelter at his cousin's or at a friend's but at the moment he doubted anyone would let the man into their house.

It was kind of sick the way the ministry could turn a country against one man. It was very intimidating knowing that they could wield a piercing weapon like the media so efficiently. It was very sad that so many people believed everything they read. He still couldn't understand how the ministry had managed to make it so that everyone cared about all those bastards in Azkaban. None of them deserved a retrial. None of them deserved to be alive anyway. With the exception now of Black, Moody knew that everyone incarcerated there deserved a life sentence at Azkaban. With a few quick untrusting glances at the busy muggles around him, Moody picked up the pace ignoring the stiff aches in his leg; Rufus wasn't exactly going to wait for him.

The lad was upset. Moody had seen Rufus in many moods and under many emotions but he hadn't yet seen Rufus struggling under such anger. Anger was always something Rufus expressed by shouting and cursing people. This time the anger seemed too great to let go of. It made the man unreasonable and unpredictable. This was not something that made Mad-eye comfortable at all. He disliked not knowing how Rufus was going to react to a situation. Moody's imagination could come up with a hundred ways in which Rufus could ultimately express his feelings about what happened the past two weeks and all of them included a decapitated Fudge and a burning ministry building.

 _Things would have been easier if Haden were here._

The thought struck him as he struggled through the sea of people with his stiff leg. Rufus had turned a corner. They were walking down a quieter street now. Moody was pretty sure Rufus was trying to ignore him. Because Mad-eye was making one hell of a noise and Rufus sure as hell would have been distracted by the sound of his wooden leg hitting the cold wet pavement. "Rufus, why are we playing this game my boy? I am probably the only friend you have."

"I never had any friend!" Rufus bellowed causing a few tourists close by to stare at him oddly.

Moody pushed himself to move in something which resembled a jog. He reached out with his gnarled hand and caught the man on the shoulder, "Rufus, do not temp me to engage you in a duel. I may not be the quickest these days but I can still make your life very unpleasant by removing a limb or one of your five senses." Mad-eye hissed in the man's ear as he pointed his wand tip in-between the man's shoulder blade. Rufus was slowing down, "So listen to me and stop being an idiot. I am offering you some company for the evening. I can also offer you a place to stay until you get back onto your feet. Do not be thick enough to refuse me."

"Mad-eye I do not want to need your help, I'm supposed to be better than you." Rufus muttered. "My life wasn't supposed to have gone this way."

Moody relaxed his grip on Rufus and let his wand find its way back into his coat. He wasn't getting anywhere. It would always come back to this. "You were a great auror Rufus." He muttered in his coarse voice.

Rufus brushed the complement aside, "You were the greatest auror Mad-eye. You're too much to live up to. I don't even know why you sought me out today. Out of all the people in Britain who hate me you have got to be the one who hates me the most." He shut his eyes tightly and raised his hand so that his fingers could dig into the corners of his tired eyes. Moody swore he saw the man's body shrug backwards silently with the strain of keeping back a sob. The lad took a deep troubling breath and let his hand creep away from his eyes. Without acknowledging Moody's presence at all, Rufus turned around and continued walking down the road.

 _To hell with it_

Mad-eye didn't feel like running after him anymore. He was being stubborn. He was being an idiot. Mad-eye was offering him ways pick himself up and Rufus was too proud to take it. Moody didn't have the strength to deal with Rufus. He began limping back towards the main road. He regretted pushing himself into a jog. His leg was going to be in terrible condition in the morning. He would go and enjoy Christmas with some of the old Order members. As a reminder of better day's when he still had the strength to run around pleasing Rufus and keeping Haden in line.

He had tried. Nobody could deny him that. He had tried to help the boy see reason. He had been a good friend even after all this time. He had tried sympathizing. He had tried reasoning. He walked up the busy road. Before he disaparated he couldn't help admitting to himself, that he did indeed hate Rufus. The boy had failed himself and failed the country. Just not in the way that everyone else thought he had.


	11. Chapter 11

**Transparent for a while**

"What are you suggesting Albus? Damn his family! I don't care what the ministry wants I am not gonna let him go back to that hell hole. He is my godson. He is staying here! He stays with me!"

"Sirius, please sit down. I am not attacking you. I am simply telling you what must happen. There are healers at St. Mungoes that have brought Harry's well being to the ministries attention. At the moment the ministry is being examined very closely. They have requested that Harry undergo evaluation to determine the emotional state he has been left in after this ordeal." Harry heard the old man sign, "I do not think this a bad idea. The happenings of the past month or so would have been a lot for young Harry to deal with."

"Bull! He is dealing with it fine! He is not going to be taken apart by some physiologist who thinks he knows anything about being human. I won't let it happen! I am his godfather! James and Lily left me in charge! Harry doesn't need a shrink. He is fine!"

"Black, they have lined you up for evaluation as well. St. Mungoes's does not think a man who had spent the last seven years in Azkaban is in the right state to take care of an eight year old."

"Fuck them!"

"Sirius, please calm down. This shouting is bound to wake Harry."

"I don't give a fuck! You are not taking him away from me! And you are not sending him back to the Dursley's!"

"Sirius-"

"Remus, you can't seriously be agreeing with this bullshit! James wouldn't have wanted this to happen!"

"James is dead Sirius, who knows what he would have done in this situation."

"James was my best friend! What do you know?"

"I was his friend to, Sirius, and I know he would have thought about this with more reason. You are acting irrationally. Think for a moment. Think about what dum-"

"I am the adult! I make my own decisions. And I am not letting Harry out of my sight. He _needs_ me! He needs _me_! If I am not there, who is going to help him get dressed and make his breakfast and read him stories?"

"Potter is not an infant Black."

"Fuck off mad-eye I don't remember talking to you!"

"He has a point Sirius. We have been treating Harry like he was still a one year old. It is not right and not healthy."

"Are you telling me I am unhinged?"

"I am trying to tell you that I think all the things that have happened the past decade is catching up with you. Padfoot, you are not okay. I am worried about you mate. Please just think about this for a moment. I know that Harry means a lot to you. He means a lot to me too. But the way we have been interacting with him is not normal. He is not James Sirius, and he is not the little boy you babysat whenever Lily and James went out for a bit."

"I don't think of him as being either." Sirius's voice has finally reached the breaking point. It was no longer a confusion of pain and anger. Pain had won.

"Sirius, you drink yourself to sleep every night. Harry isn't stupid. He knows you aren't alright. You are suffering Sirius. You are hurting old friend. Both of us can hear you muttering in your sleep. You scare him sometimes. Sirius…"

" – "

The sound of Sirius's body falling into a chair.

"I am – I am trying."

"I am well aware of the fact. Please understand that I am not attempting to keep the two of you apart. We must however take into account the fact that Harry needs stability. He also needs protection, I fear now more than ever before. He must go back to his aunt and uncles house."

"They are neglecting him headmaster."

"I am afraid my boy, that there is little we can do. Harry can come visit you wherever he likes. I will give you that much. Once you have the approval of St. Mungoes healers, you are allowed to visit him anytime within reason. But he cannot stay with you. Not yet."

"I am his godfather."

"then I hope you also realize, he is your godson. You are supposed to do what is best for him."

" - "

"When do we take him back to the Dursleys Headmaster?"

"The ministry has arranged for one of their employed doctors to come and talk to Harry tomorrow. The future depends upon the report the doctor delivers to the wizengamont."

"What do we do?"

"Sirius will go off to St. Mungoes in a week or so. You are free to do as you please. The ministry seems to have overlooked your involvement in this all together."

" – "

"I must be off, thank you for inviting me Lupin." The sound of Mad-eye struggling to put on his coat. "Would you, give the lad this when he, er, wakes up. It is Christmas and all."

" – "

"Merry Christmas Alastor."

"Albus…Black."

" - "

The front door slammed shut.

"Why is this happening all of a sudden, headmaster?" he heard Sirius's raw voice start again. "I promised him he could stay. I can't break that promise."

"It was a foolish promise to make Padfoot, we both now when things are too good to be true."

"Things will be better when they return back to norma-"

Harry slowly pushed the door shut, and stepped away from it. He had been listening to the conversation in the kitchen for a while now. He pushed at the tear tracks on his face with his palm. He felt empty. Harry crawled back in between the covers. Tonight had started out so good. There was a big lunch. And many people he didn't know spent hours telling him how much he looked like his dad but with him mum's eyes.

He wished they were here still. Telling him those things. They made him feel so happy.

* * *

She says her name is Cathleen. She is rather pretty. She has a kind voice. She isn't as pretty as Harry's mum. Her hair is a dull light brown color, it is thin and messy. Her eyes are brown too, but they look black in the dim light that shines through the windows. She wares baggy clothes. They make her look fat and she has a gap in-between her two front teeth. She smiles easily, and Harry can see that this is a very weird woman. Because when she smiles it is not because she is happy or finds something funny. She smiles because she is at peace with everything around her. Harry can't like her however. She is the lady that is going to send her back to the Dursleys.

Sirius woke Harry up early to open up the Christmas presents. It wasn't nearly as much fun as Harry thought it would be. After watching Dudley do it for so long Harry thought it would be grand. But he was still too upset about the conversation the adults had last night to be truly happy. Opening all the presents Sirius and Moony bought him, and all the presents last night's strangers left him, Harry found himself not feeling one bit more happy than he did when he woke up.

There was a sad quality to the way Sirius and Moony watched him open his presents. Sirius and Moony didn't talk much. The both had a haunted look in their eyes. They both seemed as sad as Harry felt. When the contents of the last wrapped package was pushed aside into a pile Harry received two bone crushing hugs. Harry didn't much like hugging but he hugged back anyway. He knew that they were upset because he had to go back to the dursleys and in a way it made him feel good. He was glad that they were upset about it.

She takes another sip of her coffee and continues to scribble on her note pad, "What are these nightmares about then?" she asked after the appropriate amount of silence. "You say you have been having them for a while now. Always the same one. What happens?"

Harry scratches his elbow and rolls his lip between his teeth, "Haden. I dream about Haden and the night when he killed those people."

Her face remains calm, "Haden, the warden of the prison your godfather was in?" she asked sounding only a bit interested, "he was an odd character isn't he?"

Harry nods slowly, he just told her that Haden killed people and she didn't blink twice. She took it without any question. She was really weird. "I think he is just sad. Very lonely. All he has is that dog." Harry waited for her to disagree. But Cathleen didn't.

She nodded politely, "If that is what you choose to believe then you are right. I thought he was very odd and extremely interesting to be honest. I don't really fancy his job much though. He had a horrible job."

"he saved my life. Those men he killed they tried to hurt me. Haden saved my life by killing them. Even though he is very sad he is also a nice man." Harry stated, "We were walking home through the village, it was right after I went to see Sirius. Mad-eye said he couldn't take me home but that Haden would take me home. We were walking along and then something hit me in the back and I fell forwards. By the time I got back onto my feet he had already killed one of them. Someone kicked me into a tree then and I watched as he killed the last two."

"It must have been a terrible thing to see Harry, did Haden get injured?" she asked with a frown, "It sounds like he was being awfully brave."

"I think he enjoyed killing those men. Which is rather sick. Whenever I see his face in my dreams I see that he was enjoying it." Harry muttered as he looked into her black eyes, "Why would he enjoy it?"

"Well, Haden was a soldier in the war. He was a sick man. He did some terrible things in the war Harry." Cathleen answered before she took another sip of coffee. "Have you ever seen anybody else act like that before?"

Harry shook his head. "He saved my life. I wish he would have come to the Christmas party last night. He wasn't here."

Cathleen frowned and then smiled, "you trusted Haden didn't you? Between Sirius, Remus and Haden who do you trust the most?"

"None of them." Harry answered, "I trust Mad-eye the most."

"Moody? Interesting…why would you say you trust him the most Harry?" she inquired.

"Well, because, he trusts me. He – he treats me like I'm an adult. Everyone else treats me like I am a kid." Harry explained. "and I know that I am a kid but – but it is nice that he treats me like more. But Mad-eye is sad too. He is just as sad as Haden."

Cathleen smiled again and her eyes softened, "You are very compassionate Harry. You are a very sensitive boy." She placed her empty cup on the table and leaned over towards him, "How about the two of us take a walk out? I know it is cold but I would love to see more of the countryside."

"Why?" Harry asked suspiciously. "there is nothing to see but bare trees and sheep."

She un-smiled again and leaned away from him, "I live in the city, there aren't any sheep there."

Harry nodded slowly, "We – won't go far from the house will we?"

"No, just up to the wall at the other end of the field. We can look out onto the rest of the country from there. I am dying for a fag and I really don't think I should be smoking in a stranger's house." Cathleen said standing up. "We won't be long I promise." Harry followed her towards the door and out into the chilly afternoon air. As he door closed behind him he swore he could hear the sound of Sirius cursing.

"So Harry, tell me what you think about your godfather." She asked as they walked across the frosty ground. "Have you been enjoying the time you spent with him?"

Harry pulled at the sleeve of his jumper and bit his lip a bit before answering, "Yeah I have. He really treats me well. Sirius likes having me around. He is a great godfather."

"Do you like being around?" She asked smiling down at him.

"Well…yeah. He – he reads me stories and stuff. Treats me the way my aunt treats my cousin. He is a great godfather."

"So he treats you as if he was your mother?" Cathleen said with a tint of laughter in her voice.

Harry couldn't stop himself from smiling a bit, "Well, yeah. It is quite odd but he does. Uncle Vernon doesn't fuss over Dudley the way Sirius fusses over me. He talks about my dad like they were married or something. It is kinda weird. He does act as if he were my mother."

"Does that make you feel uncomfortable Harry?" she asked her voice not laughing this time. "That he isn't acting the way you expect a father to act. Does that make you feel uncomfortable?"

Harry shrugged, "I dunno, at first I kinda liked it, but now it is just becoming too much."

She sighed and then giggled a bit, "I have this vision of him waltzing into your room with dolls and making you play with them or something. Or making you wear this ridiculous frilly dress robe."

Harry shook his head, "it is not anything like that. I mean, it isn't that he treats me like a girl or something, he just, treats me like a baby. He always has to do everything for me. And it's annoying."

Cathleen had stopped walking and was sitting down cross legged on the wet grass. She dug her hand into her coat pocket and pulled out her cigarettes. "Never mind the wall. I don't much fancy climbing the hill anyway. This is fine."

She only wanted to get them out of the house so that Moony and Sirius couldn't over hear the conversation. Harry sat down opposite her. Cathleen really was an odd woman. "Why did we come outside?" he asked her as she lit her cigarette.

"Well," she started, "Harry I need you to trust me. Because you need to be honest with me. I want to make the right decision concerning you and your Godfather. I do not want to make the wrong judgment. I don't think you would be comfortable talking about some of the things we need to talk about while you were a room away from your godfather. Out here, it is just the two of us. He can't hear us. Harry, why don't you ever tell Sirius that you don't want to be babied?"

Harry looked back up the slope towards Moony's house. He swore he could see Sirius's face in one of the dark windows. Harry looked away. "I want him to love me." It slipped out quickly. "I want to make him happy so that he will love me."

"So that he will love you?" Cathleen repeated in a voice that wasn't smiling or frowning.

"Yeah, you know so that he will want me to stay. Moony – Remus and Sirius they care about me. They give me food as much as I want. They tell me stories about mum and dad. They play games with me and they make me laugh. And they hug me and stuff. I want to stay here with them. Because they treat me so good. I want to make them love me so that they will keep me here." Harry ranted, "The Dursleys don't treat me as well as they do. I don't want to go back to the Dursleys."

Cathleen smiled again then un-smiled, she pulled the cigarette up to her lips and it hung there for a while. Her black eyes that seemed so dark and unreadable inside were slowly lightening. It was a terrible gaze to hold. Not because it scared Harry but because her eyes seemed to really get it. They seemed to really understand what he was feeling. "Harry, your Godfather, does he ever tell you that he loves you?" She blinks and the cigarette is back between the fingers of her one hand. The understanding in her eyes is gone.

Harry shakes his head, "I dunno."

She smiles again, "Harry, Sirius does love you. You are his best friend's son-"

"I don't want to be loved just because of my dad!" Harry barked. Then he clamped his hand over his mouth. He didn't mean to sound so rude. "I am sorry. I didn't mean to –"

She un-smiles again, "No, it's fine Harry. You get to say as much as you want to. Whatever you want to. I understand that you would want Sirius to love you for you. But what you do not realize Harry is that even though Sirius was your dad's best friend, you are probably someone he sees as family. You are the reason he is out of jail. He loves you fiercely Harry. You shouldn't worry about that. You gave him another chance at life. A reason to live. You might be too young to understand just what you could mean to your godfather. But you should understand that he loves you. You don't need to do anything to win his love."

Harry felt tears pulling at his eyes again. He had been crying so much lately. He felt like such a baby. "How do you know?" he asked her looking back up towards Moony's house, silhouetted against the gray sky. The face was still there in the dark window.

"Oh, I saw it in they way he looked at you today while I was asking Remus those questions. They are both very protective of you. They love you greatly Harry and I do not believe it is the kind of love that could vanish or diminish. You do not need to worry about that. What you do need to worry about is yourself." She said drawing his attention away from the house and back towards her odd peaceful eyes. "Do you think staying here is the right thing for you to do? What about your schooling? What about all your friends and your family? You have a life back at your aunt and uncle's house. Don't you think you would feel more secure back there than you do here?"

Harry started chewing on his lip again. "Do you promise they will love me no matter what?"

She smiled again. Her face was beautiful when she smiled, "The love that they have for you is not the type of love that can disappear over night Harry."

"Well," he sighed, "sometimes I feel like things aren't alright here. Sirius and Moo - Remus are sad a lot of the time but they always act happy for me. I would rather not let them have to act. I think it wou-"

* * *

Harry sat in front of the fire. Cathleen had been talking to Remus and Sirius in the study for a while now. He could hear their muffled voices. At first Sirius's voice had been very angry but it calmed down after a while. Cathleen said she would tell Sirius and Remus that Harry wanted to go back to the Dursleys. Harry had been too scared. He didn't want Sirius to shout at him like he had shouted at the old man.

He snuggled further into the worn out sofa and stared more intently at the flames. He loved being here and all, but when he was here, he was always waiting for things to go wrong. For Sirius and Remus to hate him. Or yell at him or hurt him or something. At least with the Dursleys he knew were he stood. He knew that they didn't like him. Sirius was going to the hospital anyway like Mad-eye had said. So he wouldn't be here in a week's time and even though Remus was great, Harry thought Moony had quite enough to deal with. Harry knew that he still didn't feel comfortable with everything that had happened. It would be better for everyone to just take some time to clear their heads.

Cathleen had assured him that he could visit whenever he wanted; he just had to make sure that she was aware of it before hand. She had given him a telephone number he could use at his aunt and uncles house to call her. If he wanted to talk about something or to arrange a visit. She was a nice lady. She was just very odd.

The study door down the hallway opened and Harry could hear the sound of the three adults walking towards the kitchen. He closed his eyes and pretended to be asleep. He listened to Cathleen greeting both Sirius and Remus before the big Crack. Harry knew she was gone after that. It is what wizards and witches did to leave without using the door.

"Some tea?" Moony asked in a tired voice.

"yeah, some tea would be fine." Sirius answered above him somewhere in a voice just as exhausted.

Harry heard Sirius walking around the back of the sofa and felt the way sofa moved to adjust to Sirius's weight. Sirius settled next to Harry blocking out the fire's light that bombarded his face before. "Harry, open up your eyes I know you aren't sleeping." Sirius's hand played with the tips of Harry's hair. The comfort of his arm against Harry's back caused him to snuggle up to Sirius's shoulder. He opened his eyes and saw his godfather's blue ones smiling at him sadly. "So how has your day been?"

Harry rested his head on his godfather's chest; it moved up and down as Sirius breathed, "It was okay." Harry answered in a small voice. He didn't really want to talk about going back to the Dursley's tomorrow. He wanted to Sirius to hug him again and tell him a story about when his dad was in school. It still felt odd being this affectionate with someone. Harry wasn't always very comfortable when Sirius ruffled up his hair or ushered him around like he owned him. But he knew it was something he would miss once he went back to the Dursley's.

"You did the right thing Harry." Sirius muttered. "I am sorry if I have made things difficult for you. I got carried away. I am sorry mate. I'll make it right." His hand was rubbing lazy circles on Harry's back. Harry thought he was going to cry. Sirius turned his head so that it was buried in Harry's hair. Harry swore he heard Sirius chock back a sob the same moment he did. "I'll make it right."

Harry carefully lifted his arm and threw it over Sirius's chest, "Don't cry Sirius. Cathleen said you can visit me whenever. It will be like me visiting you when you were in jail. Same thing. Don't be sad."

The hand on Harry's back stopped rubbing circles and instead the arm wrapped itself completely around Harry's shoulders and dug into his flesh near the neck. He felt Sirius's lips tremble against his temple. He heard the man breath great struggling gusts of air through his nose. He felt Sirius's body start shaking. His godfather's wet tears ran through his hair.

Harry clutched at Sirius's shirt. He didn't want his godfather to be crying. He didn't want Sirius to be sad. This was terrible. Harry didn't know how to comfort Sirius like he comforted him. He didn't know any good stories about his dad that would make Sirius feel better. Harry didn't know what to do.

Remus was supposed to have made the tea already. It never took Remus long to make anything. But Harry had the idea that Remus was also crying somewhere behind the sofa in the kitchen.

It was the worst Christmas Harry had ever had. He hated Christmas. It was always horrible.


	12. Chapter 12

**Seems like the real thing**

"- should have informed us of your intentions to visit Mr. Lupin." The healer snapped sternly as they made their way down the corridor. "Mr. Black did state that you were one of the few people who he wanted to see. If you had just sent us an owl there wouldn't have been so much fuss down at reception. With every reporter in Britain trying to get an interview with Mr. Black you aught to have expected the door slammed in your face. All we have been doing is keeping those parasites out of the wing." She pushed open the door with her back and gazed at him expectantly, "I will come and collect you in an hour. I am afraid there is a time limit to visitations."

"Thank you for the trouble. I will notify you before I cause such a fuss again." Remus said rather apologetically. He had wrestled tirelessly with the woman before she finally let him in the doors.

She nodded sharply, as Remus made his way into the room. The door closed and locked behind him. Sirius was sitting at one of the tables looking out of the big dirty windows. There wasn't much to look at. He supposed the view was a lot better than it had been in Azkaban.

Sirius's head turned around and his eyes widened in surprise, "Hey Moony, when they chased me in here I didn't know what to expect."

"Just visiting." Remus smiled as he navigated the room and sank into the chair next to his old friend. "How has the week been?"

"It is okay. I get bored easily though." He muttered sounding rather glum, "You are the first person to visit me."

"Dumbledore was informed yesterday that your state of mental illness wasn't too severe for you to receive visitors." Remus teased, "You are making progress then?"

"It's hard work being crazy. I have been assured however that I am an exceptional case and that a full recovery is possible." Sirius turned his head away from the window and his eyes were tinted with concern, "enough about me, how have you been doing Moony?"

"Fine," Remus said trying not to laugh, "Better than fine actually, I went to visit Harry the other day. He seems to be okay. Walked him home from school, we chatted a bit."

"It is unfair that you get to spend more time with him. But Harry likes you for some reason." Sirius mumbled.

"He says he misses you." Remus continued.

"Yeah well, I miss him too." Sirius concluded.

It was a rather pleasant day. Remus started smiling again. It felt great to sit next to Sirius knowing that he wasn't insane and that he wasn't a murderer. It felt great waking up in the morning knowing that he had his best friend back again. He wasn't completely alone anymore. He had Sirius and they had Harry. Harry, who was both James and Lily. It wasn't perfect like it used to be before that Halloween but it was the best life had been since. Sirius would be out soon. He would get a job and an apartment here in the city. Harry would probably be able to visit over the summer.

Remus knew that Dumbledore would make sure Harry lived at his aunt and uncle's all the way through Hogwarts. It just felt great that the kid knew about him now. That Harry liked spending time with Remus. He could be apart of Harry's life. It didn't hurt as much as he thought it might. The boy was an amazing kid.

"Remus, things are going to be okay after this is done right?" Sirius asked sounding very uncertain. "Me, you and Harry; the three of us will be okay."

Remus shrugged, "Honestly I don't know. I think things are al right already."

"I want custody of him. I don't want him living at his aunt and uncles." Sirius insisted, "After I get out of here I think Harry should come live with me."

"Padfoot, we've been through this. Dumbledore agreed that Harry can visit us, but the protection his aunt and cousin give him is too important. Harry needs to stay there." Remus said hoping that this conversation didn't turn into a fight like it did last time.

"I know." He said softly, "but i want to raise him the way James always talked about. I want to get to know the kid better."

"He is spending the summer with you. Dumbledore agreed to that." Remus pointed out, "Sirius if you fight the dursleys for guardianship it will be very messy. It will go through the Wizengamont of which Dumbledore is the head. You will be going up against him. I don't think you want to get in Dumbledore's way Padfoot. Fudge also doesn't want this to happen. He wants things to return to normal as quickly as possible. If you fight Dumbledore and Fudge over Harry it will be a very long war. You might win but Dumbledore won't make it easy. Fudge won't make it cheap."

"I know he means well. I know the headmaster always means well. But Harry needs to live with people who love and appreciate him. He is a wizard if there ever was one. Why is he living with a bunch of muggles who hate him?" Sirius asked sounding slightly irritated.

"It's not like they hurt him Sirius. St. Mungoes checked the Durlsey's thoroughly. It might not be the nicest environment for a boy to grow up in, but there are kids who live in worst conditions." Remus answered, "I agree with Dumbledore, I would rather keep him safe from Malfoy and the rest of them. You will just spoil him rotten and soften him up. Dumbledore is convinced that hard times lie ahead." He glanced over at Sirius who was shaking his head with a deep frown on his face.

"Harry deserves to be spoilt." He said as his fingers dug into his arms.

"Sirius everything that has happened to Harry thus far was not your fault. You need to accept this. You aren't to blame for the way things turned out." Remus uttered watching his friend struggle against a few tears. The Sirius Black that was so unbothered at Hogwarts was long gone. "Things just happen. But it will be fine now."

"He is eight years old Moony. Lived in a bloody cupboard for seven years, doesn't know a thing about his parents, his aunt and uncle don't care for him. It is just wrong. This is James's son. He deserves more." Sirius continued, his voice still dangerously close to breaking, "If I just wasn't so impulsive. If I had just thought things over before charging off. If I had just-"

"Who knows what would have happened then, Sirius." Remus interrupted, "Things are the way they are. You just need to accept them, for Harry's sake."

 _And my own._

* * *

He supposed that while he was in Azkaban. He never really took the time to think about how lonely it was to be locked away in a cell. He never really thought about how depressing it was. He never really gave his freedom much thought. There it was all about surviving. Finding the strength to fight; to wake up the next morning and not freeze to death in your sleep.

This was different. The room wasn't hard, cold and dirty. Heating charms on the time floors so that your feet were never cold. A soft bed with a thick blanket. Food three times a day. Big windows set in a white painted wall that didn't have moss growing on it. There were no bars on the windows. Obviously some charms to keep deranged patients from jumping through them. You could look out at the city and at the sky above it. It was much better accommodation but it was lonely in a way that the haunted halls of Azkaban fortress would never be.

The nights he couldn't sleep. The place was too calm; too peaceful. Sirius missed the muttering and screaming of prisoners and the roaring of the see. He missed sounds of the wind squeezing through the many cracks in the walls. They kept him company in the dark. Here it was just silence. It was too easy to think when you were here.

His uncle had donated the money for the wing to be built. There was a portrait of the man hanging above the entrance. Thinking about his family was horribly disheartening. Since he came here it was the only thing any of the doctors wanted to talk to him about. His family. His relationship with his father. The big fall out he had with all of them. It was exhausting; too much to think back on.

Recently they were badgering him about the night James and Lily died and the war before that. It wasn't one of his favorite things in the world to talk about. He didn't want to remember seeing his best friend's dead body lying in the destroyed living room. It was complex. In Azkaban he had dreamt of it often. But there nobody ever expected him to talk about it.

He saw no point in all their stupid questions; he already knew the answer to all of them.

* * *

There was something about this wing that made him feel sick. He couldn't stomach the endless white corridors and the uneasy silence. He knew that each room was warded, so that sound couldn't escape. He could just imagine the endless howling of the insane. Never heard by anyone. If there was one thing worse than screaming in agony it was screaming in agony without being heard. The healers here were driving their patients crazy. If you weren't mad waltzing into this part of St. Mungoes, you would most certainly be insane by the time you were allowed to leave. It was almost as bad as Azkaban. Azkaban with luxuries; such as food and anti-depressants. It was the second worse hell he could imagine sending someone too.

Moody supposed that the ministry had their motives for incarcerating Black here. They couldn't risk him speaking out to the media. There were some things happening in Azkaban that Moody couldn't imagine. Most of them had to do with the Department of Mysteries. Experiments on the prisoners; if a new spell had been invented than it obviously had to be tested upon something. Since there were impregnable laws against animal testing, criminal scum, who weren't considered human by most people, became the test subjects. Transfiguration had made some incredible advances the past century and Moody was sure it was at the cost of those poor idiots sentenced to life imprisonment in a dingy cell, on that forsaken hell rock that floated on the cold see. If you survived the first year in Azkaban, then you were a lucky bastard. It was no wonder that there had been doubt as to Sirius's current mental state. Seven years was a long time to suffer the dementors, the weather and whatever else it is the ministry did there.

Haden never talked about the things that went on in Azkaban. But Mad-eye was sure he knew. He knew about every person who set foot on the damned rock. He knew the state of every prisoner. He knew the happenings of each day. He was, of course, powerless to do anything against it. He had the run of the prison. But it belonged to the ministry of magic. The ministry would of course never admit this to the public. They couldn't be so closely connected to human suffering. It would reflect too badly on them.

Sirius Black knew some dangerous things. He was a greater threat to the ministry now than he had been as a mass murderer.

 _Send him here where nobody can hear him talk. And if he does, we declare him insane and he stays there._

Luckily the influence the ministry had on St. Mungoes was minimal. St. Mungoes had been around longer and had been owned by a small close knit cluster of ancient wizarding families for as far back as records could reach. The investors. All of them decent people. Most of their children healers. It wasn't a safe place but at least St. Mungoes was built on good intentions.

He winched as his boot covering his wooden leg slipped on the smooth tiles. The thing jerked out at an angle and painfully dug into his stump before he could take his body's weight off of it. His damned leg. He really did need to get it looked at one of these days. There had to be a way to make it more comfortable. So much money invested annually disappeared to the medical advances department of the hospital; you would think they did something with it.

Moody limped the last stretch of the corridor until he reached the double doors that swung open to reveal a visiting area. Not that many of the patients family bothered visiting. Before Alice and Frank's condition had been analyzed as being hopeless, before they were both moved up stairs to spell damage, Moody remembered bringing Longbottem here once to visit his parents. Never again. It had been quite the ordeal. They were still warding the rooms to be soundproof. With the war over and gone there was finally time to complete the wing. The muttering and howling had been emotionally torturous to hear.

Few who had endured the long walk down the corridor back then, would dare do it now.

Black was lying on the table in the corner, his face turned towards the window, his sad eyes lost amongst the rain drops creeping down the window. They had shaved his head and beard. Dressed him in a uniform white cotton shirt and a matching pair of pajama like pants. It didn't suite the boy he used to know during the war. Back then Black wouldn't be caught dead in anything that tasteless. Then again, that Black had died somewhere in a dark cell in Azkaban. With the see puking into his cell window and wind shearing the skin of his arms and legs. This was a different man.

"You didn't have to come here Mad-eye." He muttered as his head flipped away from the window to face his visitor instead. "You can tell the other's that they don't need to make turns visiting me. This place isn't that bad. I have been were it is a lot worse." The room was empty. His voice filled it.

Mad-eye walked the pathway that darted between tables, chairs and armchairs and led towards Black. "Albus thought it was a good idea. To keep you company a bit lad. Everyone agreed. The healers here encourage it."

Sirius pulled a face as Mad-eye struggled to lower himself into a chair, "That leg of yours being difficult again?" He pushed himself off of the table and into a chair himself, so that he could face Mad-eye.

Mad-eye snorted, ignoring the question, "How is the 'evaluation' going?"

A small smile shimmered for a moment on the lad's lips, "Oh, its going fine."

 _Bet it is_. Most of the healers attending him were female. There had apparently been a large number of them applying to be moved to this section since Black was brought in. The media had made quite the story of it. No doubt the boy was having the time of his life. "Your brat misses you by the way."

"Harry? How is he doing? You went to see him?" Sirius asked, suddenly very sincere, "He started school again two weeks ago. I haven't gotten much news from him. All that the people here ever tell me is that he is fine."

Moody nodded, noting the way the silent hunger rose up in Sirius's blue eyes, "He is a tough kid Black. Fine is the best word to describe how he is doing. He sends his love and all that." Moody reached into his coat for plastic bag, "Do not tell the healers I gave you this. It didn't go through their inspection before I brought it in. I don't have an hour to waist while some idiot digs through a bag of cookies looking for a razor blade or narcotics."

Sirius reached out and pulled the bag towards him. He opened it and peered into it. Sadness carved its way onto his face as he noted the letter and the pile of slightly burned chocolate chip cookies. "That kid really is something, isn't he? He is more like Lily than James though."

"Aye." Mad-eye answered, his eyes examining Sirius very carefully, "The ministry is after your blood Black. You aren't doing anything here that would make them go for the kill?"

Sirius shook the sadness off of his face and a disgusted frown twisted its way into his forehead, "I am not an moron Mad-eye. I know when to keep my mouth shut. Dumbledore has already given me this speech. I am nearly thirty for God's sake. I know what I am doing."

"These are dangerous times we are living in lad. You can never be too careful. Unless you are blind you would have noticed that things have only worsened since the war ended. You shouldn't get too confident." He didn't like the glint in Black's eye. It was reckless. The boy had always been reckless. Maybe the old Sirius hadn't died completely yet. Maybe seven years wasn't long enough to break him. This might be good news for Black, but it was something that would add to the long list of liabilities Albus would need to compensate for. A very unpredictable trouble seeking godfather. A twenty eight year old man as wild as the school boy he was a dozen years ago. Someone who still has a lot of growing up to do.

"I know Mad-eye. I am not an idiot." Black whined.

 _That is why you are so dangerous._

"How long do you think you will be in here for?" Moody continued.

"Probably till the end of January." He answered stiffly.

Moody couldn't think of much else to say. He was severely disappointed with this meeting. He watched silently as the man opened the letter his godson had written him.

Black wasn't crazy but the evidence of the damage done to him by the war and then by the dementors was clear. He had never grown up after all. Had always been a reckless teenager and seven years in Azkaban hadn't done anything for his emotional growth. You couldn't grow as a human being locked up in that hell. Moody had seen what it did to Haden. It broke the man. Everyday another bit of his character was gnawed away. Haden disintegrated before Moody's eyes.

The same was probably true for Black. Only worse, because in Black's case the boy had scarcely been out of his teens before he was imprisoned.

"He says he misses me." Black muttered with a smile. "He says that school is boring and the teachers are on his case all the time. He says his cousin has gotten fatter over the holidays." Black stuffed a cookie into his mouth. "He says his aunt and uncle gave him his own bedroom." The smile swelled, "he says he doesn't know why." Another cookie stuffed into Black's mouth, "He really has no idea huh? You are keeping an eye on him. Incase more mercenaries have a go at him or something?"

"Nothing gets past me. The ministry has stationed a team of aurors in a house two blocks from his. They follow him near damn well everywhere. The Media are taking snap shots of him whenever he isn't looking. It was made clear that nothing was to be done that would disturb Harry. Fudge is actually enforcing this very strictly. It reflects well on him. I have a few friends keeping tabs on Potter as well. There is no way that anyone could harm the boy at the moment." Moody reported. "The biggest threat to his life is his blundering bullying cousin. We cannot however, intervene there."

"His cousin is an ass. Harry really doesn't like him much at all." Sirius nodded, "From what he told me about his aunt and uncle it doesn't seem likely either of them will pull their fat son to one side and give him a good beating any time soon."

"All the attention on Potter will subside soon enough. The ministry is working overtime to get the media to focus on something else. Things are slowly going back to normal." Moody commented.

"Normal isn't always better. I would rather have him live with me." Sirius muttered darkly his eyes scanning the letter again, "He says he can't wait to see me again. Is there any chance he can come visit?"

Moody wondered how many people were reading the recording of this conversation. It was very easy to deduce that Black had an unnatural obsession with his godson. Potter was probably the thing he thought about the most. "Not likely Black." Moody grunted. The healers were scared of letting Black near Potter at the moment. Albus felt the same. The headmaster had stated that there had to be a period of time in which Sirius could adjust to the world again. Until Black found some balance in his life none of the doctors working for St. Mungoes would agree to an arranged visit. Black was Potter's godfather, but Potter was the boy-who-lived after all.

* * *

 _Dearest Sirius_

 _I miss you. When do you get to visit me? Nobody will tell me._

 _How are you? Moody said you were fine. Moony said the same thing. School started again. It is really boring. The teachers don't like me that much. But I don't really care. Dudley got a lot of new things for Christmas. The things I got for Christmas are just as cool. But I wouldn't tell Dudley about it anyway. He must have eaten a lot this holiday when I wasn't here because he is now too fat for his clothes. Which means I get a new set of hand-me-downs._

 _I am not living in the cupboard any more. Uncle Vernon told me to move into Dudley's second bedroom. It is much bigger than my cupboard. Dudley was furious. Uncle Vernon told him I was getting to old for the cupboard. But I don't really know why he made me move out._

 _I really miss you._

 _Please come visit me soon._

 _Harry._

He had read it many times. The writing was smudged and the page tore once or twice. But Sirius knew what was written on it anyway.

* * *

"-cannot allow you to do that Sirius. You need to understand. Harry shall remain at his current residence until the magic no longer offers him any protection. There is a very good chance that Lord Voldermort will find away to regain his lost power before young Harry has graduated from Hogwarts." Dumbledore stated again. He had been telling the man the same things for the better part of an hour now.

Sirius rubbed furiously at the short hair on his head and leaned back into his chair. "You won't let me out of here until I drop the case." He stated plainly, "I want Harry to grow up with me."

"I realize that Sirius, you have said so before on many occasions." Dumbledore assured, "You are correct in saying that you will not be released from St. Mungoes care until you back down in all your attempts to remove Harry from the Dursley's custody. The minister for magic and I have both been pulling strings here at St. Mungoes to postpone your release. It has been a month Sirius. It could turn out to be years."

"You are very serious about this. You won't budge one bit." Sirius muttered his eyes staring blankly at Dumbledore.

"I am quite serious about this my boy. You need to trust me." Dumbledore said gently, "I am only doing what is right. I am not secluding you from Harry's lif-"

Sirius waved his hand at Dumbledore sitting up straight again, "Nah, I get it. I just want to see him again that's all. Fine, I will stop this. I'll owl my lawyers in the morning and get them to back down. I understand. I just, I wish it was different. I wish James and Lily were still here."

"But they aren't, Sirius." Dumbledore said with a kind smile. It seemed that some form of acceptance was finally growing in the boys mind. "We have to do the best we can without them."

"Yeah," Sirius muttered in a voice that was defeated, "yeah I know. I just, I miss him that's all. I just, I suppose I never really acce-"

* * *

The water jerked at his body and he slid down the crest of the wave, the struggling boat followed. The storm was meaningless. Lightning lunged repeatedly at the horizon. A succession of thunder drowned out his struggling gasps for air. The temperature of the water was freezing and it speared his sides and festered, into slow climaxing aches in the core of his bones. He began kicking against the current that was dragging him further away from boat. His one hand frozen around the pimply bloated skin that tied them together. His other trying in vain to part the water that was in his way.

He was so tired.

The rain was hurting him. Even thought the water droplets were breaking against his head, the force with which they were spewed down out of the dense dark rain clouds, pushed the cold they had possessed an inch into his scull. His eyes were blurred by the smokescreen of sea spray and rain. The wand clenched between his teeth provided a dim light in all the darkness. Lightning again. He saw not too far away the swiveling figure of the boat. With the last of his energy he kicked his way violently towards it. His hand…

His fingers were firmly drilled into the wooden edge. The current pulled at him again but he fought off his bodies urge to follow. He started dragging the other figure through the water to join him at the boats edge and with marvelous vigor managed to roll the carcass over the side as the boat raced down from another crest. Rufus swung part of his body over the edge and clung onto the side as the vessel was pushed up to the crest of the next wave. Leaning forward, he flipped over the side and tumbled into the dinghy.

For quite some time, he was a rag doll. Tumbling whichever way the sea pawed at the boat. He only moved when his mouth and nose were buried beneath the three inches of sea water which accompanied him and the corpse as they rolled from the one end to other end of the boat. If it weren't for the charms on this thing, the boat would have capsized long ago. He was safe for the moment.

Eventually Rufus reached up to his mouth and unsheathed his wand. He had to cut the anchor so that the damn vessel could carry him back to the mainland. He would die of hyperthermia unless he got out of the storm soon. He _crawled_ towards the stern, and with a shacking hand pulled the edge of his wand across the thin black cord that tied the boat to the anchor below. The cord melted away. The boat was free. It turned of itself and began breaking its way towards the dark coast.

Rufus propped himself up against the wood behind him. Taking deep uneven breaths. He knew it hadn't been easy. But at least now he had done it. He had gotten what he had searched for. He finally found Haden.

It had taken him very long. He had been searching for a month. He had been going out every night and if he thought he could risk it, during the days as well. He had searched every meter of the bottom for his friend within a two mile radius of Azkaban fortress. He had checked with local muggle authorities every morning to find out if there had been any reports of a dead body washed up. He had been to every mortuary along the coast and looked at every body that might have matched Haden's description.

He had finally found the man.

Haden had been floating in the water near the bottom, face down. A rope snared around his waist and tied to the make shift anchor that held him there. Swaying gently in the current.

The boat skidded up the rocky beach bringing Rufus out of his thoughts. It was still raining terribly hard and his limbs were numb from the cold. He was sorely tempted to close his eyes again and drift off. But a wave crashed into the boat propelling it another meter or so up rocky soil causing it to fall to one side. Rufus was awake.

He lit the tip of his wand again to aid him somewhat as he navigated himself and his dead friend out of the silly boat and onto the slippery pebbles beneath it. His muscles were straining with the effort of draging the heavy thing and its jelly like skin made it difficult to hold onto. One aching step at a time Rufus managed to make his way up the slope towards the small weathered fisherman's cottage he had, _acquired_. The shabby cabin was struggling under the weight of the weather. It looked as if it might be blown away by the wind any moment. It was only thirty meters away.

Only thirty meters.

He burst through the dodgy door and kicked it close behind him as he let the heavy wet thing drop onto the soggy floor. His shirt came off immediately followed by the rest of his soaking clothing. Shivering, he walked towards the old stove and tapped vigorously at the battered black kettle that stood on it with his wand. He then stirred the dying embers inside the stove until his wand tip ignited a healthy fire. Rufus stumbled over to the small cot in the corner and robbed it of the blanket and the sheets. More lightning. The wind spiked in ferocity. The wooden planks strained trying to remain attached. He wrapped himself in the blanket folding his arms to keep it in place. He sank onto the bed bringing his knees up to his chest. He rocked back and forth shivering. The fire in the black stove was growing stronger. Lighting up the cabin. His toes were freezing. He was tired. He needed to stay awake.

He needed to stay awake.

The kettle began whistling. He forced himself up from his sitting position. He was getting old. He was very tired. He needed to… he walked across the room. Water was soaking into the blanket. It was quite warm near the stove. More lightning. Light flared through the cracked windows. Haden's body lying on the ground. Thunder. His shivering hand reached out and grabbed a dirty mug. His other shoved a bundle of used tea bags into it. He was adding the kettle's contents. The amount of rain falling doubled. The storm shrieked. The wind clawed at the door. He wished he had some whiskey left. He wished he had gone into town to buy more. Indeed, he wished he had money to buy more whiskey. He leaned back against the countertop, his body not far from the stove. He sipped at the tea. It burned his tongue. He sipped at it again. He wished he had some food left. He was getting old. Lightning. Haden's body was illuminated for a moment. Another sip of tea. He had to stay awake. He had to get into some dry clothes.

He drained the scorching tea and refilled the cup. The wet Blanket clung to him as he walked away from the stove towards the black tog bag that lay in front of the cot. He let the blanket drop to the floor. His hands weren't shaking as badly. He began putting on clothing; three shirts, both jeans, a sweater, socks and his thick auror boots. He walked back to the stove to attend to his tea.

He had found Haden.

He had finally found him.

* * *

"- Dawson wouldn't be interested. He started a family with his wife two years ago." Moody muttered while he flipped through the lad's file. "He wouldn't leave his family for Azkaban. No sane man would."

"What about, Richard Law," Amelia asked tossing the boy's file over at him, "he has not been promoted in a long time. Rufus wouldn't let him climb rank. He said in the report that the man didn't have the skill."

Mad-eye shook his head, "He is too young. A twenty four year old isn't experienced enough for the job. He wouldn't know how to handle the place."

"Alastor, what is it that we are looking for?" She asked leaning back in her chair, "Everyone is either too old, or too young."

"You need somebody who fought in the war. Somebody who has been an auror for more than decade. Somebody who could deal with the dementors." Mad-eye said irritably skimming through Law's record, "You need someone who deserves imprisonment there themselves." His magical eye did a quick sweep of the surrounding muggle restaurant. The storm outside seemed to be getting worse. The room was packed. Every table was occupied. Businessmen and families cluttered around the tables. Every table radiating conversation to fill the room.

"Why don't you take up the job?" she asked curiously.

"I retired Amelia." Moody growled, "And I am not foolish enough to take up that position."

"Well, I don't know many other sadistic bastards who fit your description," she answered with a tight smile on her clever face. "It is a pity that Haden never gave us an official leave of absence."

"He never followed protocol." Moody muttered through his own sick grin. He dropped the file on top of the small pile of then at his elbow. "What are you going to do? You cannot keep sending in a different auror each week to keep things in order there. You could lose control very quickly."

He reached for his fork and continued eating the chocolate cake. His magical eye trained on the woman. He didn't like Amelia much. She was a very clever witch. She was a very good person. She was bold and brave. However, Bartly and Amelia together with three or four other department heads formed a very dodgy part of the ministry. She was a politician in every sense of the word. Moody had learned long ago that you could never trust politicians. You could work along with them and achieve great things. But if you trusted them, you were making yourself vulnerable to all of their enemies. Politicians usually had more than a few; in the oddest places imaginable.

No, Mad-eye wouldn't associate himself personally with Amelia or Bartly. It was dangerous. These people were too ethical for their own good. They were fanatical about the law. They took the oaths they sworn before assuming the position as head of their departments too seriously. The ministry was their life. They would die rather than see it fall.

"There is not much I can do about that at the moment Alastor. Nobody working for the ministry will take the job willingly. I shall need to corner a few old and bitter war veterans like you who want nothing to do with the ministry. It will take time tracking down the right person." She said calmly as she picked at her teeth with his thumb.

"Goodluck." Moody mumbled as he finished his cake and putting his plate back onto the table, "I should leave but before I do," he added taking another sweep of the room with his eye, "I would like to know what you decided concerning Sirius Black. Will you let the lad join the ranks again?"

Amelia frowned, "I have already owled him the answer to his request. He will need to write some sort of test. To see if he still has the required knowledge and skill to be an auror. After which I see no harm in letting him join again."

Mad-eye nodded. He was slightly relieved to hear that Black's request had not been rejected. Amelia was fair at least. Without saying much more he struggled to pull himself onto his legs and as soon as he had found some stability he walked away. He pulled at his bowler hat. He didn't want any of the people to notice him. He walked down the steps and rudely streaked through the door while a group of young woman rushed in to get out of the rain.

She had asked him to help her find someone to replace Haden as Warden. She had invited him to discuss the issue over dinner. It hadn't taken Mad-eye long to deduce that what she really wanted was for him to take up the post. It had been very amusing to watch as she tried to, promote the job. She must have thought very long and hard about the advantages because there weren't many and they weren't obvious. It was a waist of time in the end. He had more important things to do but he couldn't let her get suspicious of his other agenda. He had to keep up appearances now that he was retired. It was very exhausting but he had to indulge the woman or she would start digging. He didn't need someone that powerful and shrewd digging anywhere near him.

He was already late for another meeting.

* * *

Everything smelt new. It was a smell that he had always associated Sirius with. Sirius always had new things. Remus supposed that it was because he had the money to buy them. Hell, if Remus had money he would buy new things too. The apartment Sirius had purchased must have cost more money than everything Remus owned. It was a nice place; filled with nice new furniture. He waited for his friend to finish reading the piece of legislation. Sirius's face seemed very sour. His frown was slowly deepening. It was quite flattering knowing that somebody cared enough about him to get angry when people picked on him. He remembered that James and Sirius would curse anyone into the infirmary whenever he was teased or bullied at Hogwarts.

"This is bullshit mate." Sirius muttered dropping the bundle of papers onto the still-brand-new polished oak table. "I can't believe the wizarding community is letting that bitch get away with this."

"There has been so much happening recently, I honestly don't think anybody noticed. The media has never focused much on such matters." Remus stated calmly, "Anyway, I haven't been able to keep a job for a while now. It's a struggle, but I manage."

Sirius nodded with a sigh, "whenever you are short for money you can come here fore food or whatever else you need. It's the least I could give you, that you might accept. I know that if I offered you money you wouldn't take it and if I told you to move in with me you would insist otherwise."

Remus nodded his head, "I don't need charity Sirius I need friendship." He watched as Sirius nodded his head in acceptance. He had been through this many times with Lily and James. They had offered him pretty much the same and he had given them the same answer time and time again. Remus wouldn't let his friends look after him financially. It was embarrassing and unnecessary. His parents didn't raise him to loaf off other people.

"Yeah I know. I just wish you would realize that with hopeless cases like you and me, charity and friendship are about the same thing." Sirius muttered darkly as he reached for his whiskey again. "Anyway, I don't think I will be around much. Bones has arranged for me to go up to Cornhersh (A.N. don't ask if you don't know) and do some fitness and attend some classes. I write an exam in April and if I do well enough then they let me back into the ranks."

"That's good." Remus commented.

"Hmmm, I don't really know what the job would be like without James. He was the reason for pretty much everything I did after Hogwarts." Sirius pointed out, "It is going to be very empty without having him there with me. But I will be fine. Moody gave me a, a pep talk the other day. All about how losing a partner was difficult but he had lost five of them his entire career and he was still fine." A mocking smile stretched his lips across his face.

Remus didn't for one second believe that Mad-eye was fine. He didn't know many wizards his senior who had it all together. The war had messed up the lot of them. With the exception of Dumbledore who he supposed had been insane from the start. The storm outside only seemed to get worse. There had been some snow during the time in which Sirius was in St. Mungoes but lately, it was rain storm after rain storm blowing in from the Atlantic. He pushed the empty whiskey glass around on the smooth table surface thinking about how empty it was without James. Conversation was still difficult between the two of them.

"I miss him Moony." Sirius whined suddenly, "Don't you miss him as well?"

Remus nodded his head, "have you been to his grave yet? You should go visit his grave. I was there the day they were buried; I still go there every year. I wouldn't recommend it. It is frightfully depressing."

"James and I talked once about what would happen if one of us died. He said that if Peter died, we would be fine, it would be sad but we would be fine. If I died then he would spend a lot more time with you. It would be sad but everyone would be fine. If you died then James and I would spend less time together. It would be sad but we'd still be fine. He never got around to say what would happen if he died." Sirius ranted, his hand already filling both glasses with more whiskey, "I guess this is it. It would just feel wrong."

"James shaped everything." Remus said quietly, "He was the one that shaped all of our friendships with each other. He started everything. Prongs." He whispered as an afterthought before he started on his whiskey again.

"James was amazing." Sirius said in agreement.

Another silence fell between them. Remus was processing what Sirius had said. It occurred to him that the conversations that he had with James were of a completely different nature to the one Sirius had with James. James had been like a father to them all in a way. He always seemed to give everyone what they needed from a friendship. "Why would you and James have drifted apart if I had died?" He asked his glass settling on the table again.

"well," Sirius started his eyes narrowing slightly as he thought, "I suppose, because you were, you were our-"

"project?" Remus interrupted, "Your first lasting commitment as friends. Your obligation. Your shared responsibility." Remus listed. He sounded bitter but he couldn't keep it out of his voice. He had made piece with it before that Halloween.

Sirius stared at him with his blue eyes. He nodded slowly and said in a slightly sad voice, "Yeah, I suppose so. Don't take it the wrong way or anything."

"you know I won't." Remus said, "I know that you guys also saw me as a friend. It was just, I was a special friend. I was your werewolf friend."

"That is who you are Moony. Turning into a big nasty wolf boy every month is a big part of you." Sirius said bluntly with another careless shrug, "we didn't want you to try and convince yourself otherwise. James always said that there was no point in trying to ignore part of who you were, just because you don't like that part."

Remus took another sip of whiskey, "So you went to see Harry today?" he started, changing the subject completely.

If Sirius noticed he didn't do anything about it, "Yeah," he said brightening up a bit, "I picked him up at lunchtime and we went to fish and chips shop. Sat down and talked a bit. Well, mostly I just listened. He is doing fine."

Remus smiled at the table, "Don't worry too much Sirius, I hear that they are more interesting after they turn into teenagers."

Sirius burst into a bark of irrational laughter, "Don't get me wrong, Harry is a swell kid. He is so well mannered and so proper. It's just, I was a naughty annoying little shit when I was eight. All he ever does is his homework, his chores and whatever else his aunt and uncle tell him to do. I would have rebelled against those idiots. Harry just takes all that shit. Yeah okay, his attitude towards the lot of them is sarcastic and mocking. But he never _does_ anything exciting to express the way he is feeling."

"in short he is a good little boy and you are very disappointed." Remus summed up.

"Naturally. Don't forget your roots Moony. This is the son of _the_ Prongs. Whenever did you see James do any homework, ever?" Sirius asked as hand running through his, slightly longer but still short, hair.

"You are forgetting that this is Lily's son as well." Remus grinned.

Sirius signed, "In that case, God save us."


End file.
